Waning Moon: Carlisle's Story
by YborJen
Summary: The epic story of Carlisle Cullen began in 17th century England. Follow Carlisle through the Old and New world as he meets friends and enemies on his journey toward his destiny as an inspiration to vampires everywhere. Love is eternal, but life is not.
1. Table Of Contents: PART I

THIS IS A FAN FICTION NOVEL

DISCLAIMER:

All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Because this is a CANON STORY, use of situations and dialogue from Ms. Meyer's novels is purely meant to keep the narrative in canon. No plagarism is intended. As much as possible, I tried to write these scenes from Carlisle's perspective and/or interject my own ideas into them.

I hope you enjoy the result.

~~ WANING MOON ~~

By

YborJen

_This book is dedicated to:_

_Stephenie Meyer for creating characters we all love_

_My husband whose undying love carries me every day_

_My mother who is still my editor and my original fan_

_My sister and sister-in-law who introduced me to Twilight_

_My friends in Tampa who are unswervingly supportive_

_The Appinellis who encouraged me_

_The Frogs who kept me laughing_

_Mr. Peter Facinelli for an inspired performance_

_Special thanks to:_

_Kristi, Heather, Sarah, Drea, Alexis, Kimberly_

_and my readers and friends at _

_Beta Admittedly Obsessed_

_Junior Beta myimm0rtal_

TABLE OF CONTENTS

~~ PART I ~~

Chapter 1

1661

Chapter 2

1666

Chapter 3

1671

Chapter 4

1678

Chapter 5

1679

Chapter 6

1686

Chapter 7

1721

Chapter 8

1752

Chapter 9

1770

Chapter 10

1770

Chapter 11

1784


	2. Chapter 1: 1661

~~ PART I ~~

The Old World

CHAPTER 1

~~1661~~

Carlisle's breath clouded in front of him as he stepped out of the carriage and his trunks were unloaded and set just outside the parsonage. The small square windows of the house that faced the street were completely covered with drapes on both the first and the second floor. He looked up at the noontime sun as it peeked through the gray winter clouds. Not a single ray of sunlight was able to penetrate the Reverend's house. That was how it had been since his wife died giving birth to Carlisle.

As he paid the driver and then watched the carriage drive away, Carlisle wished for just a moment that he was still riding in it. Then he shook his head at himself. He knew why he was home: he had to try.

Carlisle opened the front door and the heavy hinges of the wide wooden door creaked quietly. He had to bend slightly to enter the old parsonage which had housed three previous generations of pastors. The Reverend was not visible when he entered. Carlisle was certain his father had received his letter detailing the date and time of his arrival. He hated to admit it, but he was a little relieved that the Reverend had chosen not to meet him.

After unpacking, Carlisle went to the market and got some eggs and flour. During the rest of the daylight hours he cleaned the house. When the Reverend still did not return he settled himself with a blanket around his shoulders at the kitchen table and read the New Testament with a single candle as he waited. When the church bells tolled at nine in the evening Carlisle closed the book of Luke and walked upstairs to bathe.

He was still awake when he heard the front door slam just below his bedroom after midnight. He was angry with himself for worrying about his father, but he did not allow himself to be angry about the fact that his father had completely avoided him on the day of his return.

The Reverend's heavy footfalls on the stairs brought back profound, onerous fears. Carlisle had to grit his teeth to keep his heart rate under control. The Reverend reached the top of the stairs and slowly walked over to his son's door. Carlisle squeezed his eyes shut and worked to control his breathing. A few seconds later, which felt like an eternity, the Reverend walked away from his son's bedroom door. Carlisle angrily wiped a few beads of sweat from his brow. He did not fall asleep until after he heard the bells for three in the morning.

Carlisle threw back his blanket and washed his face as the church bells tolled six. He had slept fitfully. He prayed that his father had not heard his dreams. His dorm mates had woken him several times when his father visited him in his nightmares.

He was taking the morning bread out of the stove and the soft-boiled eggs from the kettle of boiling water just as his father made his way down the stairs at half-past seven. Carlisle turned and stood up to his full height as the Reverend entered the kitchen. He had not seen his father in two years and had had a growth spurt around his eighteenth birthday. He was now the same height or just a bit taller than his six-foot tall father; however, he did not yet compare with the Reverend's brawn or girth.

The Reverend gave his son no words of approval, greeting, or dismissal; he simply sat down at the end of the kitchen table and waited. Carlisle turned to the stove and put two eggs on a plate and cut a large chunk of bread. He could feel the Reverend watching every move he made.

After Carlisle put the plate in front of his father he stood near him and waited for some acknowledgement. The Reverend looked back at his son with slightly narrowed eyes and ate his entire meal before he finally spoke. "My son, your Reverend requires a new cross for his fortress of God."

Carlisle recognized the strange shine in the Reverend's eyes. It was the kind of dark light that he saw when his father was preparing a crusade, like his crusade against the false religion. Carlisle recoiled slightly from his father's fervor and the old man saw it.

"My son does not share my passion? The passion of God?" The Reverend demanded at the top of his voice, slamming his hand on the table.

Carlisle clenched his jaw; there was nothing he could do to stop the Reverend. His father was determined to set the tone from their first meeting. "Father, I just… sometimes wonder if Christ would… persecute any child of God."

The Reverend jumped up and with the backside of his fist struck his son across the face sending him flying toward the kitchen wall. Carlisle hit the wall headfirst; narrowly missing the searing heat of the iron stove, and fell to the ground. His lips were swollen and bleeding from his father's strike and blood also ran from a laceration on his forehead from where he hit the wall. Carlisle pushed himself up off the floor groaning with pain. He turned over and slowly looked up at his father, whose massive frame loomed above him. Carlisle pushed himself up the wall, and stood unsteadily as he forced the building dizziness and nausea out of his mind.

The Reverend took several steps closer to his son, until he was inches from his face. Carlisle refused to flinch. "My son WILL do the work of God. We will fight the demons. We will send those who are NOT the children of God back to the abyss of hell."

He lifted his hand in front of his son's face; it was balled into a fist, but he did not beat his son with it. Instead he displayed the gold ring symbolizing his church authority. Carlisle examined his father's face: the Reverend's deeply wrinkled brow was wide and high, his green eyes were narrow and shadowed by heavy brows, and his full lips were turned down into a permanent frown. Carlisle was searching for any sign of resemblance, seeking once again to reassure himself that there was still no connection between them. Satisfied, he defiantly pulled himself up into his full height again before he kissed his father's ring depositing a little blood from his lips onto the shining gold.

The Reverend's eyes narrowed. "Go and do what I have commanded, my son. God told me again of the demons among us. We will find them and burn them. We will continue our mission tomorrow under your new cross of Christ." The Reverend then walked to the door, put on his black hat and coat and left his son bleeding in the dining room.

Carlisle quickly lurched toward the back door of the dark parsonage and vomited his bread in the dirty snow just outside as the church bells tolled eight o'clock. His head throbbed from the pain and ringing in his ears, and his throat burned. Carlisle leaned back against the doorframe looking up beyond the tall wooden and brick buildings of their neighborhood to the gray snow-heavy clouds over the city. He wiped his hand across his brow again and found that the bleeding had not stopped. He applied some relatively clean snow to his wounds and then held his sleeve up against his head. After about twenty minutes, the bleeding finally slowed enough that he felt he could stand up to find a cloth to bind his head with. After wrapping the wound, Carlisle retrieved his hat and trudged out onto the streets of London.

The wide-brimmed hat was painfully ill-fitted over the bandage, but he ignored this as he walked with the edge pulled down over his eyes through the churchyard and then turned south. The cloud cover overhead was breaking for the morning sun, but the increasingly bright sky could not stop Carlisle's thoughts drifting darkly to the Reverend.

As time went on, Carlisle thought of him more and more as a possessed madman and less and less as his father. The Reverend had never remarried, he had apparently spent his love; all that was left was hate. Carlisle had accepted long ago that his father would never forgive him, but the Reverend's sheer malice toward him caused him to wonder if this new cross he was now charged with was, in fact, his cross to bear.

Carlisle turned east again onto Thames Street heading toward the local carpenter. He was not going to pay for a commission but the carpenter still was the supplier for the finest raw materials. Carlisle mused about how it was that he could attend boarding school, study science and religion, and when he returned to London that his father reduced him to carpentry. He supposed that he should be thankful his hands had become a shadow of Christ's: not a scholar's, imparting knowledge and writing books; instead they were a carpenter's hands.

Carlisle had learned the craft from an old master who had attended the Reverend's church when Carlisle was a boy. To escape the Reverend's wrath as a child he would often run away. His favorite refuge was the carpenter's shop. He would spend hours in the old man's company, and though he desperately tried to hide it, the old man knew what Carlisle was running from. The carpenter taught him to take out his anger and frustration on the wood – not on people, and not on God.

Finally, Carlisle turned in to the carpenter's shop: the old man was gone, and his son was now running the business. The carpenter's son was ten years older than Carlisle and had witnessed his childhood. Carlisle knew that he would be recognized but did not look anyone in the eye because he did not want to answer any questions. He quickly found the ideal wood and purchased it. The carpenter's son was wary of Carlisle's secretive manner, but he personally drove him back home with his purchase, and then helped him set up the wood so it could be worked in the churchyard. In the broad daylight the man's gaze lingered for a moment on Carlisle's swollen jaw and noted the bandage, and then he shook his head and left without another word.

Without stopping to eat, Carlisle immediately stripped down to his billowing white shirt and dark breeches, and began working the wood under the noon sun, shaving it down until it was smooth. He grunted with every stroke as he planed the wood, and suddenly he discovered that tears streaming down the sides of his face were mixing with sweat and blood escaping from his bandage.

"Carlisle Cullen, what is your mission today, brother?" A cheerful baritone voice rang out behind him.

Carlisle closed his eyes and shook his head. _Vile, gossiping carpenter's son_. The visitor's smile quickly disappeared when Carlisle finally turned and faced him.

"Sweet Mary. Go inside the parsonage and let me attend to your wounds," Arthur whispered, his small, brown eyes widening with horror. Arthur was Carlisle's longtime boyhood friend and worked as a blacksmith just a few doors down from the carpenter shop Carlisle had visited that morning. The carpenter's son had gone straight to Arthur when he returned from delivering Carlisle's wood.

Carlisle grimaced. "I think the Reverend prefers that I carry my burdens and not try to wash them away, Arthur."

The brawny, five and half foot man folded his thick arms across his chest and gave his old friend a hard frown. "The Reverend prefers that you carry _his_ burdens, especially on your face. Which, according to my father, resembles your angelic mother far too clearly for the Reverend to bear it."

Carlisle shifted his weight but did not respond.

Arthur sighed, ran his hands through his short brown hair, and then motioned toward the wood. "Might I at least share your tasks?"

Carlisle looked to the snowy ground. "Your offer is kind and selfless, my friend. But I think solitude is more conducive to my penance for my transgressions against God's work."

"Do not repent for sins you did not commit," Arthur grumbled. Then he nodded; he could see he was not going to break his old friend's melancholy with mere gestures. "I am glad to see you have finally come home. I'll see you at the gathering tomorrow, then, Brother Cullen."

Carlisle nodded, and then turned back to his work, shaving down the wood and making more and more long curly strips fall to the cold ground.

That night Carlisle finished the cross by treating the wood to kill any insects inside and to harden it. He had decided against ornate carvings and allowed the planes of the wood to direct his tools creating the cross. He stood in front of his finished project, still dirty and bloody from his efforts and injuries, and realized only then how the ends rounded to a point looked almost dagger-like. Its possible relationship to this strange new mission made it quite foreboding. Carlisle could already feel the weight of the five-foot cross on his shoulders.

His eyes were drawn up to the old cross that still hung over the altar. His father had carved the simple straight lines and beveled edges when he had married his true love. After his mother's death, over the years from when he was a small child, the cross had developed a double meaning for Carlisle. When he prayed to it, he was praying to God but also to his mother. And sometimes he was praying only to her. Carlisle prayed once again to the symbol on the wall.

_I need to know your plan for me. Am I to serve in the church? Am I to leave this place and return to learning? Am I to stay and take care of my father's community? Please, let me know how to fulfill your wishes._

Carlisle pulled down the old cross and then held back a curse because he had dripped his own blood all over it. He wiped off as much as he could, but there was still a stain. He placed the new cross over the altar, and set the old one over the church entrance.

For the next few years, however, Carlisle's prayers were unanswered. He endured the Reverend's gaze, and his fist. He had done so as a child before leaving for school, but as an adult the Reverend seemed to find more and more reasons to beat his son down. Carlisle knew that his few friends in the community were aware of his torment, but none could find a way to aid him, and he was not sure he wanted them to suffer any of the Reverend's wrath on his behalf.

As an additional curse, instead of having his educated son help with teaching or speaking, the Reverend saw fit to charge his son with aiding him in recording the trials of demons in the community. Witches and vampires were being burned at the stake. Carlisle did what he could from his subservient position to save innocent lives, pushing the Reverend when he knew the mad old man was in error and often suffering because of it. Arthur frequently assisted Carlisle when he was concussed or required the services of the local surgeon.

One afternoon Arthur found Carlisle unconscious on his doorstep with a black eye and a slightly askew nose. He could see a trail of blood where Carlisle had dragged himself to Arthur's house all the way from the parsonage. Arthur was lucky to have enough brawn to move Carlisle's nearly twelve stone in dead weight. Arthur removed Carlisle's shirt and found large, swollen bruises that, when probed, woke Carlisle and elicited cries of pain due to broken ribs.

"Carlisle, you're twenty-two this week. You are surely now more than a match in size for your father. Why do you not fight back, brother?" Arthur whispered, holding back tears.

"Turn… the other… cheek," was all Carlisle would say through gritted teeth. Arthur did what he could to alleviate the physical pain, for he could do nothing to soothe any of the other hurt Carlisle suffered from.

Two days after Arthur found him, Carlisle was sitting in church on a Wednesday morning when he glanced to his right, and caught Elenor, Arthur's pretty sister, looking at him again. He looked back to the altar and did not see her expression deflate as she realized finally that Arthur was right: Carlisle's heart could not be touched.

While he was staring at the cross he had created, all he could think about was the old cross that now hung over the entrance to the church. He felt as if that cross was boring into the back of his skull: it demanded that he never concede defeat, the congregation needed him now more than ever. The old cross had more power over him than did the Reverend, who was standing in front of him.

"Today my heart is full of God's fury!" the Reverend cried, beating his pulpit. "Vampires and demon witches are among us! We must fight the Devil who takes human form!" The Reverend frowned at the congregation. "Some people," he gazed down on his son who looked away, "believe that I have sometimes misread the signs. But I know that any man or woman may be taken as a servant of darkness!"

Carlisle's eye was still rimmed with a green shadow and his ribs broken because he had challenged the Reverend on a case of a young boy who was slow in thought and action. Carlisle knew that his mother drank more ale than water, and he felt the child had suffered in the womb; which was a common problem where the water pumps were often putrid. His father saw it as possession by the devil, which carried a sentence of torture and imprisonment. Carlisle had refused to take the child into custody. The Reverend had punched him out and beaten him with his walking stick.

"Today God showed me the answer! I am appointing his servant Carlisle to now be the judge of what is holy, and what is of hell in our community!" the Reverend said in a tone that only Carlisle recognized was mocking. Sincere and relieved applause erupted from the congregation and Carlisle was genuinely startled. He did not look up at his father for fear that he would smile.

Arthur sought him out after the service and put a careful hand on Carlisle's shoulder. "I think our prayers have been answered, brother. You are now in a place where you can truly aid the innocent and defend the weak." Carlisle gave his friend one of the first half-smiles that Arthur had seen on his lips in years.

Soon afterward, however, Carlisle found out that several prominent members of the church, who also paid significant tithes, had finally confronted the Reverend after Arthur reported to them what Carlisle had done to save the boy and what he had suffered because of it. They had demanded that Carlisle be put in charge because they agreed with his judgment. He was mortified that they had intervened on his behalf, but no one even whispered about the incident ever again, and the supportive smiles and nods he received from the congregation heartened him.

Carlisle did exactly as he intended and protected the innocent, which resulted in very few prosecutions – and this did not please his father. However, the Reverend had never anticipated the possibility that Carlisle would actually gain popularity by _not_ prosecuting witches. He tried to remove his son several times, but the church elders refused. Even with the Reverend speaking against his own son in the pulpit, when Carlisle spoke at the trials, even more heads nodded. The young man had found his voice.

It was not that Carlisle disagreed with his mission – quite the opposite – but his methods were different from the old man's. He compiled evidence, made lists, tested theories, and especially noted mysterious deaths or activity.

One morning there was a knock on the parsonage door. Carlisle opened it to find Arthur, pale and drawn, and he was instantly alarmed.

"What is it, my friend? How can I help you?" He put a bracing hand on Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur's lip trembled slightly, "My… sister… She is dead."

Carlisle's heart gave a small thump. It was an old feeling of guilt for being the cause of Elenor's suffering. Carlisle had never openly refused Elenor; he had simply avoided her completely. He looked to the ground as he wondered if he was to blame.

"She was found on the riverbank. She had been out in the afternoon to the market, and was expected back within an hour, but she never returned." Carlisle allowed himself to be slightly relieved, and then Arthur stepped forward and seized Carlisle's shirt. "You must come to my house," he whispered harshly. "I must show you something I found on her."

Carlisle was taken aback. What could possibly be mysterious about how Elenor had died? But he immediately retrieved his coat and hat, following Arthur's unsteady gait through the streets.

There was weeping in the house, and Carlisle could smell the stench of the Thames before he entered the bedroom where the body was laid. She was certainly freshly dead, but Arthur pulled up her right sleeve and beckoned for Carlisle to come closer. There on her wrist was a fresh semicircular human bite. It was directly above a primary system of veins, which Carlisle had seen in a textbook drawing of a dissection once in school.

Carlisle stood up straight and looked down into Arthur's fearful face. Arthur's voice shook as he asked, "Is it what I think it is, my friend? Are we among vam —"

Carlisle raised his hand to stop the word being spoken out loud so near the rest of the family. Then he leaned closer. "Show me where she was found, immediately."

They walked among the muck and filth by the Thames until Arthur noticed Elenor's basket near one of the sewer drains and fell down crying in despair. Carlisle felt immense compassion for his friend's suffering, but quickly made note of where he was, and how many other drains were nearby, before gathering up his friend and delivering him back home.

That night, he sat alone near the street with a good view of the sewer drains, waiting. The moon was high so he had taken care to guard his position and hide his shadow. His eyes never left the drain entrance. He mindlessly chewed on a chunk of bread, afraid to think, or even wonder at what he was doing. And then, there was movement.

Carlisle expected a creature, or a specter perhaps, or maybe he hoped that would be what he found. Instead, he saw what appeared to be the shadow of an infirm old man, hobbling out of his filth-covered lair in the sewers. But then the man suddenly ran off at a speed Carlisle's eyes did not believe matched his apparent health and was gone. In shock, he panted as he realized he had been holding his breath. He continued to wait, seeking more evidence, wanting to be certain of his suspicions. Within the hour, before the church bells rang the dawn, the creature returned, dumping another corpse before retreating to his lair. _How careless a murderer, _Carlisle thought, _not even attempting to dispose of…_ but then two others emerged and also appeared to attack the corpse and then withdrew.

_Vampires_. Carlisle leaned back against the building and ran a hand through his blonde locks. He had seen his first true demon. He ran all the way back to the parsonage, afraid to look behind him.

That night Carlisle fell on his knees in front of the old cross and prayed; but finally, he turned to the cross he had shaped with his own hands. He thought of the mission it had symbolized, which he had fought for the past five years, and suddenly realized that he did have a real enemy. When the dawn finally broke that morning, Carlisle went back to the parsonage and spoke to the Reverend.

The next evening Carlisle, Arthur, the Reverend, and ten others from the church stood outside the sewers with their torches in hand. They did not have Carlisle's patience, and soon the Reverend's nerves wore thin. "I command you in the name of Holy God to reveal yourself, vile creature of Lucifer!!" he yelled. "You have taken our sister in Christ! You shall pay for your crimes!! Reveal yourself!!!"

No response came. As the hunting party exchanged glances indicating they did not know what to do next, suddenly a low hiss came from the darkness. Carlisle turned, and saw something in the depths of the sewer… red eyes.

"_Stultus bestias! Fugite!!_"

A creature bolted from the sewer opening, and Carlisle looked after it but then turned back to the sewer. _Where are the others?_

Almost as if they had heard him, two more creatures growled and snarled as they ran in the direction of the first one. The hunters followed it with Carlisle leading the way. He was the tallest man of the group, nearly the tallest in the entire community, and he had the longest legs. He easily outpaced them all and closed in on the vampires.

The Reverend had said the vampires must be burned to a cinder to kill them. Their speed and indestructibility prevented any other route of destruction. Carlisle planned to take the lagging vampire down and hold him until they could bind his limbs like a lamb or a pig; then they would pursue the others and burn them all.

Carlisle realized that he was catching up to their targets, and he was so elated he ran harder. Then suddenly, the lead vampire turned his head, and he realized they had been allowing him to catch up, luring him farther from the rest of the hunting party. He slid to a stop as the creature in front abruptly changed directions and the other two followed.

Carlisle's heart beat against his chest wall as he fell backward to the ground and then scrambled to his feet. All he had with him was rope and a torch. The vampire was too quick. There was no way Carlisle could outrun him. He would have to stand and fight. Behind him there were screams; the others had realized they were under attack.

"IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, THE SON, AND THE HOLY SPIRIT!!" Carlisle yelled at the top of his voice. Then the red eyes were upon him. The vampire lunged for him at a full run, and the other two passed him and headed toward the others in the hunting party. Carlisle dodged, swung his torch at the creature, and missed. He swung around again, tossing the rope aside, but the beast was missing in the darkness.

"'Though he slay me, yet I will hope in Him; I will surely defend my ways to his face…'" The Book of Job had often been on Carlisle's tongue in the last few years.

The vampire attacked from behind. Carlisle felt a wicked fire in his neck as the vampire tore into his jugular vein, and he instantly buckled at the knees, a silent scream caught in his throat. But just as suddenly, the vampire jumped off, wailing with an unholy sound.

"CARLISLE!" It was Arthur. He had managed to swing at the monster with his torch while it was feeding, and the tattered rags on its back were now on fire. Arthur put a cloth to the oozing blood at Carlisle's neck. "Brother, we have to get you out of here!" But just as he spoke, the still flaming vampire ran up behind Arthur and seized him, carrying him off as he screamed Carlisle's name.

He reached out for his friend, but Arthur and the vampire were already halfway down the street and had disappeared into the night. There were two bodies in the street and Carlisle had been left for dead. The fire in his neck was not abating, and it was spreading. He cried out as he turned over onto his side, and tried to push up to his hands and knees. The flame under his skin was moving down his arm, and Carlisle feared he actually was on fire, so he ripped off his coat, opened his white shirt covered in his own blood, and confirmed what his rational mind had been saying: he could not be burning without flames.

Dawn was breaking, and in the pale light he noticed something. The blaze under his skin had already spread to his left hand, the same side as his bite. Shaking with pain he compared his two hands: the left was now several shades lighter than the right; it was almost ghostly white.

"Dear God," he gasped, then the pain hit with a fury unparalleled, and Carlisle doubled over. _I must get off the street before anyone sees me!_ He began to crawl, fighting against the agony as it spread down his torso. His heart was racing and the faster it went the faster the fire spread. He wanted to get to a safe place before his legs stopped working; his left arm was already much weaker than the right. He crawled down the nearest alley, and fell upon a cellar door. He pulled open the door and stumbled down into the dark room. There were piles and piles of supplies everywhere he looked.

_I need a hiding place, just a small corner to lie down and recuperate._ Though he could feel his body succumb to some type of poison, he had convinced himself that he was going to be fine, that he just needed to heal, like he always had after he was beaten. He would be fine.

The pain caused him to fall forward onto a pile of potatoes in the far back corner of the cellar. Half of the pile was rotten; they clearly had not been touched in months, and they probably would not be until someone decided to dig the pile out of the cellar with a shovel. Carlisle began to dig mostly with his right arm, and, once he had a small hole started, he forced his left arm to help shove potatoes aside. After he had shifted enough to just wedge himself in behind the pile, he put his coat back on, settled himself, and began building the potatoes up around him, half burying himself in the process. He was hidden from view, and, despite the stench, he was dry and warm, though he could feel he was getting colder every minute.

Gasping for breath due to the conflagration in his chest and his physical efforts, Carlisle laid his head back, but then his right arm was ablaze. It was a slow torture, taking hours and hours. Once the scorching agony reached his fingers, he looked down again, and this time he actually watched as his fingers slowly faded from pink stained with blood to a ghostly white color.

Carlisle's eyes filled with tears which began to spill down his cheeks. But he did not have long to mourn what he knew was happening to him, because the inferno was now burning upward into his head, and Carlisle had to stuff a potato in his mouth to muffle his screams.


	3. Chapter 2: 1666

CHAPTER 2

~~1666~~

Carlisle opened his eyes. For a moment he was paralyzed and his eyes swept the room. The dawn of the third day had broken. The sun had not risen and the sky was barely purple, but compared to the pitch black of the cellar a dim light was visible through the cracks in the cellar doors. Carlisle knew he was missing a short period of memory because he had last been aware of his fading breath, and it had been completely dark outside. Had he…?

Suddenly, he sat straight up as an explosion of every smell, sound, and color around him overwhelmed his senses. He closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears. But just as quickly his mind filtered the noise, so when he opened his eyes again he noted that he could perceive every moving creature's sound in the house, could identify every smell within a six-block radius, and saw with perfect acuity even in near complete darkness every object in the room.

For a moment, Carlisle was exhilarated and easily pulled himself out of the pile of rotten potatoes, but when he was free he smelled and then looked down and saw the dry blood that covered his shirt. He was overcome with the desire to suck his own blood out of the fabric. And then a deep, ravenous thirst suddenly stabbed at his insides but he did not desire the shelves of wine, or sacks of turnips or pickled meat in the cellar. His instincts took over, and he sniffed out the closest available source of what he desired – a small female, just at the top of the stairs to the cellar beyond a flimsy wooden door, which he knew he could pulverize quite easily.

_A CHILD!? I want to drink the blood of a CHILD?! I am plotting to kill a child!!_ Carlisle backed up toward to cellar doors, struggling to push down the monstrous craving that was rumbling deep inside him. Several times he started toward the stairs leading up to the playing little girl who was so close, such an easy meal… Finally, he managed to open the cellar doors and forced himself to walk up the steps to the street. He looked up at the purple morning sky, which was starting to turn slightly pink in the east as the sun crept higher, and he closed his coat over his bloody shirt so he would not attract attention, but that reminded him of…

He put his hand up to his neck, where the vampire had bitten him. The bite on his neck was healed over to a soft scar. Then he realized that it was more than a bite mark, one soft raised line lead to another, and another. The vampire had torn apart his neck in the attack. Suddenly he was seized with rage, and he slammed the cellar doors with such force that they splintered. The door handle had come of in his hand and when he looked at it he saw that his stone-hard fingers had squeezed the thick metal as if it were clay. He was shocked by his strength, and he ran down the alley for fear of being caught but realized that in a blink of an eye he was two miles from where he had been. Carlisle gasped and looked around him. There were not very many people around yet, and those that were out apparently had not seen him moving too fast for their eyes to perceive. Fear gripped him, anger pulsed through him, thirst called him in all directions toward the humans nearby who were completely unaware of the newborn vampire that was cowering between two buildings in London, covering his head trying to block out all of the heartbeats pounding in his ears.

When Carlisle could bear it no longer he determined to run as far and as fast as possible away from all of the people. He ran in short spurts, hiding from the sight of any human, and headed for the woods nearby. He would have to go a long way, out of the city, past the fields of workers; but he appeared to move unnoticed. When he could no longer hear any heart beats calling him nor smell any hint of the enticing aroma of blood, he finally stopped and was amazed that he felt no fatigue from his efforts. Carlisle was standing in a clearing near the edge of the forest under a tree that had to be a thousand years old. Only fifteen minutes had passed, the sun was just peeking over the treetops, and he had run at least twenty miles. For the first moment since he awoke he took some time to think.

_I cannot do this! I will not become an agent of death! I will not become this monster! This must …END._

Carlisle formulated the plan instantly. He sat next to a tree completely still and calmly waited through the entire day, deliberately watching nothing but the slow crawl of the sun across the sky until darkness fell again so there would be fewer humans around to tempt his senses as he ran. His plan might instantly condemn him to hell, but he did not care. He preferred to go to hell for this rather than for killing one of God's people. He could not believe it was such a simple choice.

Carlisle sat by the shore on a boulder as large as a house at the top of a cliff face that was hundreds of feet from the rocky shore where white waves crashed. The bright sunlight reflected off his diamond hard skin and the sounds and smells of the sea and wind rolled over him like the surf far below but he ignored everything. He wasn't sure why he was there. He had been sitting on the boulder for four days without moving. He had no motivation to move, so he simply didn't. He thought rather apathetically that he could try again to kill himself by jumping off the cliff into the sea, but he knew that there was no hope of success. He had jumped from the spire of Saint Paul's Cathedral. He had stood in the flames of a glass factory. He had leapt from the London Bridge and sat at the bottom of the Thames. He had tried every weapon he could find. He had even stolen some holy water and drunk it. And he had finally come to the conclusion that while his body was whole and strong, there was nothing that could destroy its power. Carlisle began to wonder if all of the legends around how to kill a vampire existed because any vampire who had been successfully killed was weakened.

A voice of hope in the back of his mind proposed that because the only thing he could feel anymore was his blood-lusting thirst, eventually lack of nutrition might finally weaken him enough to make him vulnerable; or simply end the nightmare. And it was a nightmare, a never-ending horror, because he also could not sleep. He had spent every waking moment since he was reborn as a demon loathing his very existence.

_Hypocrite_, his inner voice said. _You loathed yourself long before you died. You are a child of death, born of a dead woman, reared by a man whose faith in life and God was dead. You have always been dead inside. You never even knew what it was to be truly alive. And now, you never will._

Carlisle's inner voice was becoming louder and louder. He began to wonder if the voice was his vampire conscience, or if it was who he really was, finally breaking free. The voice never told him to feed; that was his body, which he kept perfectly locked in place with every ounce of his will. So he dared to hope that the voice was himself, some remnant of his humanity that he clung to no matter how loudly disapproving it was of his attempts at suicide.

Slowly, his body actually began to weaken. He could feel it. After twenty days, he could no longer hold himself still. He moved from the boulder and took one more look down the cliff. He still knew that the fall would not kill him, and it wasn't worth the effort of climbing all the way back up the cliff face or running along the shore until he found an easier way up.

He headed back, or was drawn without realizing it, to the forest. He thought he was wandering aimlessly, until he happened upon a natural rock cave: a perfect hole to crawl into to die. Carlisle crawled in and found that it was clean and dry and recently vacated by a family of wolves by the scent he picked up. Something inside him told him that running into wolves was dangerous, but he did not care. He lay down on the bed of grass in the corner of the tiny cave, and waited.

Carlisle had been lying in a daze, not asleep but not exactly sure what was inside his mind and what was out in the world. He knew it was fall, but he was unfazed by rain or sun, heat or cold, day or night. All he could think of was the thirst.

Carlisle had never wanted for food in his mortal life, and he knew what a blessing that had been. His father had inherited his mother's small fortune, which was supplemented by his church salary and the parishioners' tithes. Carlisle's tuition at boarding school was always paid on time, so he had every meal he needed. He had seen desperate hunger before in both men's and animals' eyes. He had also seen starvation. It was the most visceral depiction of living death that he had ever seen, in his opinion even more graphic than a drawing and quartering which was over quickly. Oddly, however, though Carlisle felt he was reaching his end, his body was not wasting like those he had seen in the slums of London; he was simply weaker. It was as if his body had been frozen in time to an impermeable, unchanging, indestructible force. _Not so indestructible_, he promised himself. _This will end_.

He felt the ground vibrating underneath him. He bolted up straight, and his nostrils flared before he could regain control of himself. He sighed with relief. He knew that it was not a human party. He had successfully evaded humans for more than four months. There was no way he would tempt himself now. He felt the comforting weakness return to his temporarily energized muscles, until he caught the scent. It was not human, but it called to him. Carlisle rolled over onto his side and sniffed again. He did not really know what he was doing until he was crawling out of his cave and pulling himself up from the forest floor. The vibration was palpable now through his feet, and he could see them through the trees.

Carlisle was running; where the energy came from he did not know, but just ahead of him was what he craved, what he desired. He reached out with his hand…

When he finally looked up at the sky his vision was much clearer than it had been. All of his senses were heightened again. The velvety dark of the night sky above was sparkling like the sea. He could see colors in every shining star. The grass of the meadow around him was turning brown, and it whispered as it swayed in the chilly fall breeze. He closed his eyes and felt the air wrap around his cold skin, and then he felt something more viscous than water dripping from his chin. Carlisle looked down and saw on his hands the unmistakable crimson stains of blood, as if he had _bathed_ in it.

His breathing quickened as he backed away from the body next to him, the image of its unmoving form seared into his eyes like a hot iron. His first kill. Carlisle began to hyperventilate, and he crawled backward away from it though he was unable to look away. And then he bumped into another body. As he jumped up from the forest floor, away from his second kill, he turned his head and saw in his field of vision four more.

His mind suddenly took hold of his heart and said, _Look at them, you fool._

Carlisle closed his eyes and shook his head.

_I said, LOOK AT THEM._ His inner voice demanded.

Carlisle opened his eyes and first looked at his hands. They were still drenched in blood. Then he looked back at his first kill. It was a deer. He turned to the second – another deer. He walked past all of the rest of them; there were nine altogether.

Carlisle stood still as a statue, staring at the last one. Its large black eyes were still and empty. He could see where his own teeth had ripped out its throat, and then he rubbed the faint scars on his neck.

_This is the answer_. Carlisle realized the inner voice was not simply critical of him; it was his voice of reason.

He turned and ran toward the craggy peak in the distance, his legs moving faster than they had in months as the new blood filled his open veins, and he tracked the herd he had attacked.

~~1669~~

Carlisle walked through a small farmer's market on a cold and cloudy afternoon in a clearing by the crossroads five miles from the center of London. He still did not trust himself to walk into the city, but when he was well fed he felt capable of walking in this smaller gathering of humans.

The market was actually just a collection of lean-tos set up along the crossroads. There were barely thirty humans around, and as long as Carlisle gave them a wide berth he was able to stay in control. However, every trip took a significant effort and caused him physical pain. Every time he took a breath around humans, Carlisle felt as if he was breathing in burning ash; a burning he knew would only be quenched by satisfying his thirst for blood.

When he listened in on the conversations as he passed by, it seemed they barely took notice of the mysterious figure who always had a hood over his head and only came to the market when there was cloud cover. None suspected a vampire in their midst – especially not one who did not feed on humans. He returned to his cart and began to pack up his wares. He had made several significant sales that day, plenty of money for the supplies he required.

It had all started about seven months after his transformation: while hunting one evening he found a caravan that had been attacked in the forest and the dead left to rot in the road. He found weapons, clothing, and some books. His clothes had been reduced to rags, with the exposure he endured over the first few months and his failed suicide attempts. It felt strange to have such luxurious fabrics on his cold dead skin, but the sensation was far more intense than he had ever realized as a mortal. Clothing had been about utility, not comfort, in his former life.

The books he found were all written by Greek philosophers. He had spent a little time translating the classics in boarding school in his Greek class, but reading them again from an entirely different perspective immediately intrigued him. He read them over and over, even after he had memorized each page.

The weapons he put to immediate use for hunting, but not for himself. He used his superior sight and reflexes to kill foxes, deer, and wolves, and he sold the meat and pelts. He had found a way to make a good living, with minimal human contact.

Carlisle was in a hurry to leave the market because he did not like stay among the humans any longer than he had to. But a man on a horse arrived at the crossroads and stopped behind him.

"Good evening, sir. I can see you are leaving, but I must trouble you for one of your warm pelts, I'm afraid I may be ill before I reach my destination."

Carlisle could smell the man's general good health, and guessed that he must be past his prime, probably in his forties. Carlisle could hear his wealth with the rubbing of fine fabrics. But as he turned to look at the man the first thing that caught his eye was the tied stacks of books hanging from his saddlebag.

The man followed Carlisle's gaze and smiled. "You have an eye for reading, sir?"

Carlisle nodded. "I had an aptitude for science and religion in school. My studies were forgotten for years, until recently."

The man had not really expected such a response, and now dismounted and looked more closely at the strange hunter with a pale face. Carlisle instantly shrank from the man's gaze and began to untie some of the furs he had just put away.

The man frowned. "You are a learned man, I can see it. But something dreadful has happened. Where is your family? Your home?"

Carlisle's instincts were reawakening; this human was taking too much of an interest in him, and it was enticing his senses. "I have none, sir."

The man leaned a little closer, and Carlisle had to stop breathing to prevent the scent of blood from overwhelming him. "Are you a Catholic?" the man said quietly and sympathetically.

Carlisle did not answer. The man took this as something of a confirmation. "My mother's sister married into a Catholic family. They were killed and their lands taken. I will presume for the moment that is what has happened to you, sir, for I can see you do not wish to discuss it." He walked back over to his horse, and Carlisle took the opportunity to relax his face a little. The man returned with three books. "I hope you will accept this as payment for that fine wolf's skin." He indicated the deep black fur on the top of Carlisle's collection.

Carlisle was taken aback by the generosity and shook his head. "You must know I cannot accept more than one book in payment, sir."

The man smiled. "Your honesty has proven my instinct about you, sir. My name is Thomas Hawthorne. I am a professor of physic, and I am to teach at Trinity College in Cambridge." He smiled broadly when he saw that Carlisle recognized the college and suddenly appreciated to whom he was speaking.

"I had considered applying, but at the time, it seemed God had other plans for me." Carlisle frowned as he spoke.

Hawthorne was intrigued. "And what was your intended field of study?" he asked eagerly.

Carlisle shrugged. "I… don't remember." Carlisle's brows knit as he searched his memory, but the desire was long gone from his human mind, and now had completely faded as his entire existence had become focused on resisting his very nature.

Hawthorne watched the young man struggling internally and he felt a great swell of sympathy for him. He held out all three books to Carlisle and waited until Carlisle took them. Carlisle handed Hawthorne the wolf skin, which Hawthorne threw over his shoulders.

"I can see you are still young, and you have likely had a hard start to your life or lost a legacy that was due to you. But your thirst for knowledge is a rare thing. If you ever find you have sufficient curiosity, I will make certain we find you the means to study." Hawthorne bowed slightly to Carlisle.

Carlisle bowed back, and watched with wonder as Hawthorne rode away. Carlisle looked down at the books: Galen, Hippocrates, and Fuchs_._ Carlisle opened _Galen: On the Natural Faculties._

"_Since feeling and voluntary motion are peculiar to animals, whilst growth and nutrition are common to plants as well, we may look at the former as effects of the _soul_ and the latter as effects of the _nature_."_

Carlisle closed the book and looked in the direction Hawthorne had ridden. For the first time in years, Carlisle had a new thirst gnawing at his insides when he had thought he would never be able to move beyond simply surviving. Carlisle packed the books in his saddlebag carefully with his other treasured volumes, wrapping them all in cloth to protect them. He decided in that moment to formulate his plan to return to civilization.


	4. Chapter 3: 1671

CHAPTER 3

~~1671~~

Carlisle knocked on the arched wooden door facing the stone hallway on the second level of Neville's Court. It was seven o'clock in the evening and Carlisle had timed his walk to the door perfectly to avoid any contact as long as the door opened before a nearby human exited the north stairwell.

The door swung open and Thomas Hawthorne smiled at his visitor. "I was wondering when we might meet again. I presume that if you have come to see me that you have an interest in the subjects I left you with." He beckoned Carlisle inside, not even bothering to let him get a word in. Hawthorne's office was very small, almost claustrophobic. There was a main room with a small hearth to the right of the door, a large square window at the back facing the court, a work bench covered with beakers and implements on the left near the window, a trunk under the window, Hawthorne's desk to the right, and directly to the left of the front door was a smaller doorway leading to a private room where Hawthorne slept. Carlisle could see that these two rooms contained Hawthorne's entire personal and professional life, and Trinity College likely contained his whole world.

"My current project will wait, so I would like to begin with an examination of your level of knowledge," Hawthorne seated himself in one of the two chairs by the hearth putting his feet up on a wooden stool.

Carlisle was suddenly stricken with an old schoolboy panic from years of being tested out loud in front of classmates, but Hawthorne was clearly expecting his reaction, and he laughed at Carlisle's snow-white face. "Fear not, I will not have you quoting all of Genesis."

"That might be something I can do perfectly." Carlisle muttered. Hawthorne looked at Carlisle intently, so Carlisle looked down at his feet. "Professor, I'm not sure what I can do to repay you for this."

Hawthorne ignored this overture. "Let's begin with every conjugation tense in Latin, then proceed to French, and then to natural science."

Carlisle could not help but allow a slight smile to touch his lips. Hawthorne was a man of average height, with broad shoulders and a slightly round belly. He had been an athletic man at some point and had now gone slightly to seed as his intellectual pursuits took precedence. His chin-length gray hair was full and curly, and his excited mannerisms reminded Carlisle of a young professor's assistant from his boarding school. The assistant had tutored Carlisle in spelling, and he had an innate enthusiasm for learning very similar to Hawthorne's. He had made learning fun. For the first time in over three years Carlisle could see before him something that he would not have described as "fun," but as more than that: a meaningful existence.

"But before we begin," Hawthorne put out his hand, smiled when Carlisle hesitated. "We have not been properly introduced. I am Thomas Hawthorne."

Carlisle's insides clenched at the prospect of touching a human. He was in control of himself but he was less certain about having any physical contact with potential prey without intending to drink its blood. He put his hand up, but did not touch Hawthorne. "Carlisle Cullen."

Hawthorne's smile did not waver as he lowered his hand; he actually seemed intrigued and then he nodded. He was pleased to at least have learned his student's full name. "A pleasure to meet you Mr. Cullen. Would you be seated?"

Carlisle sat down in the second chair by the hearth and they began with Latin.

~~1672~~

Over the next six months they met three times a week. Carlisle had rented a room over a carpenter's shop in the village because he did not feel safe living in the college dorms where prying eyes would have ready access to his belongings. He often worked for the carpenter and developed a reputation for fine craftsmanship in heavy wood like oak. Carlisle would work inside the shop during the day, going out only if it was cloudy enough. Hawthorne refused to take any money from him, so all of his earnings were put away.

Carlisle met with Hawthorne in the evening after his lecture hours, in his office. Occasionally another student or a professor would interrupt them, but though Hawthorne often mentioned how impressed other professors would be with Carlisle's aptitude as a student, he never drew attention to Carlisle. He had noted Carlisle's instinct to withdraw, and even sometimes to flee, from any other person who came near them.

Hawthorne glanced up at his student one evening as Carlisle looked nervously at the door after a valet stopped in to deliver a message for Hawthorne. "Mr. Cullen, I think you will find that the more relaxed you are around people, the less likely they are to notice anything strange about you," Hawthorne said casually as he looked back down at his workbench. "People tend to see what they want to, and ignore what they cannot explain."

Carlisle frowned at Hawthorne. "Somehow I suspect that you are not one of those people."

Hawthorne smiled to himself but still did not look at Carlisle. "There is a significant minority of people with inquiring minds who do pay attention to life's little mysteries, but like I said, the majority of people will accept most explanations that are logical as long as they _do not feel threatened_."

"And the rest?" Carlisle said quietly.

Hawthorne sighed. "You will have to deal with them as they come."

"Do they ever ask about me?" Carlisle looked back at the door again.

Hawthorne was focusing his microscope on a sample of parasite worms and did not look up. "Occasionally, and I simply tell them you are a young gentleman who prefers anonymity. They ask if you are a royal in disguise, and I say no," he chuckled. "They understand discretion, Mr. Cullen, you do not need to fear."

"I do not fear them." Carlisle said.

Hawthorne looked up for just a moment and then looked back down at his instrument, "No, you do not."

Carlisle's brow knit slightly. He looked back over at Hawthorne, who did not look up from his desk, and he knew the conversation was over.

At their meetings they studied science mostly. Hawthorne was a physic but did not treat patients. He spent most of his time and research on naturalist pursuits. He particularly enjoyed botany and apothecary. They conducted experiments on the healing powers of herbs and dissected animals and plants.

Carlisle was surprised that dissecting the dead animals held no temptation for him. In fact, it was becoming easier every day for him to ignore the constant drum of heartbeats around him, the rhythmic heat of the human pulse, the enticing aroma of blood just under thin layers of skin or floating off the breath as it engorged the mucosa of every person who spoke to him. The only thing that continued to test Carlisle's restraint was spilled blood.

He was getting a reputation for having a slightly weak constitution when it came to blood because every time a craftsman in the carpentry shop accidentally cut himself on one of his tools, Carlisle disappeared. The others sometimes teased him about it, but he took the abuse because he never, ever wanted to put the men in danger.

~~1673~~

Nearly a year after Carlisle had settled in at Cambridge, he realized he was starting to feel quite at home in his new environment. His work was fulfilling, his study was exhilarating, and his mentor was inspiring. He was already pushing Carlisle to start writing. Carlisle began to take notes on their experiments and a catalog of their animal dissections. He was particularly fascinated by the circulatory system, and he noted the similarities between humans and animals.

Privately, Carlisle began another journal. In that book he began cataloging what he observed about himself and his experiences as a vampire. He was voraciously seeking more and more information about his own natural body strength and ability, his feeding instincts and habits, and methods for maintaining his appearance as a human. He could not justify seeking out ways to test his restraint, but whenever he was in a situation where his resolve was challenged, he made notes on every moment.

One evening, as Hawthorne and Carlisle were dissecting, Hawthorne quietly asked, "Where is your mind, tonight, Mr. Cullen? You have barely moved beyond that fox's abdomen circulation. What are you thinking about?"

Carlisle looked up and blinked. "Oh, I was, thinking about… my past, Professor."

Hawthorne nodded and sat down across from his pupil. "My past is colorful too, Mr. Cullen." He sighed. "I told you when we first met that my aunt's family was all killed. But I did not tell you that my wife and child were visiting her parents when her mother was collected for being raised a Catholic, and the _entire_ family was also immediately executed." He watched Carlisle's reactions and was satisfied by the horror Carlisle registered. "So you see, I am alone, too, just as you are."

Carlisle nodded and looked back down at the partially dissected fox. "I am not a Catholic, as you have inferred. My father was a Reverend. My mother died in childbirth. My father never forgave me." Carlisle had never attempted to describe to anyone who he was. He was not sure what else Hawthorne might think was relevant.

"How were you educated?" Hawthorne probed.

Carlisle was relieved by the easy question. "My mother's fortune made it possible for my father to send me away as soon as I was old enough."

"And when you returned?" Hawthorne was now listening with rapt attention, leaning forward slightly over the table.

Carlisle looked away from Hawthorne. "We… disagreed, on many things."

Hawthorne was silent in contemplation for a while. Then he leaned forward again. "How did you leave things with him?"

Carlisle flinched slightly, recalling the night he was transformed. "He does not know I am alive."

Hawthorne watched Carlisle intently but then carefully contained his questions. He could see Carlisle withdrawing from him. Hawthorne stood to walk to his shelves.

"Why don't we put away the animals for this evening and start on some newly collected willow bark? We can distil some concentrated bark extract – "

He was so enthusiastic about this new task that he carelessly swung around and smashed a beaker on his worktable. He didn't feel the cut immediately, but when he did the pain hit suddenly.

"Damn!" Hawthorne grabbed a nearby cleaning cloth and pressed it to his bleeding palm. Then he turned and found that Carlisle had, instantly and soundlessly, moved to the back of the room near the hearth and was pressed against the wall.

Hawthorne paused with surprise but then watched his student closely. Carlisle fought internally against his instincts; it was a physically painful battle, and he was unable to hide the agony from his mentor. He slowly inched farther away from Hawthorne. Hawthorne quickly finished wrapping his hand, and his eyes became wide with interest, taking in every moment of reaction from Carlisle's face.

"You're afraid you're going to hurt me." Hawthorne said as he crept toward Carlisle, who was now moving more purposefully away from Hawthorne. "Mr. Cullen, there are dark forces at work in you, but I have never doubted that you have a completely overriding consciousness of what is good, and right in the eyes of God. Whatever you are fighting against, we can face it together! Let me help you!" Hawthorne reached out with his newly cut hand. Carlisle turned his head away from the hand, and Hawthorne realized which hand he was using and put it down.

Carlisle was forced to take a breath to respond. "I need to leave. I'll return in two days." He turned and headed for the door.

Hawthorne called after him, "You mean, after my hand has healed?"

Carlisle stopped in his tracks. For a moment he hesitated but he was out of air, and if he took another breath in the room he feared what he might do. Carlisle pulled open the door and walked out.

That night he cataloged every thought that had passed in his mind after he smelled Hawthorne's fresh blood.

When Carlisle returned, three days later, Hawthorne was ready. Carlisle noted there was a new student's desk and chair next to the workbench and still a faint smell of blood in the air, and he assumed it was from the healing scab under the bandage Hawthorne wore.

"Well, my young prodigy, what is your experience with the Black Death?" Hawthorne said lightly.

Carlisle shrugged. "The plague takes hold in waves in certain quarters of London. I have seen the dead, but I never knew anyone who died from it."

Hawthorne nodded as he sat on the front edge of his desk. "I was working in Turkey with a Moorish physic who noted that in the previous three waves he had witnessed, many physicians and nursemaids died caring for the ill. But, among those who lived, they never became ill, even in successive outbreaks of plague. What could allow them to withstand the disease?"

Carlisle thought for a long moment. "I suppose they could have some natural power, or constitution, that shields them from harm."

Hawthorne nodded. "How about the concept of a holy man who disciplines his body and eventually becomes numb to the pain?"

Carlisle shook his head, his eyes slipping yet again to the bandage on his teacher's hand. "To survive, the body must adapt to stimuli, noxious or otherwise."

"Precisely." Hawthorne smiled, and laid his hand on a heavy wooden chest that sat on his desk. "It is a simple concept, whereby one purposefully exposes oneself to a stimulus, or malady, and becomes accustomed to it."

Hawthorne opened the chest, and Carlisle threw himself backward against the wall again as he was assaulted by the overpowering smell of human blood: a small beaker holding about two ounces of Hawthorne's blood sat inside the wooden chest. "Hawthorne! _WHAT ARE YOU DOING?_" Carlisle cried with the last air in his lungs, terrified to take in any more.

"Mr. Cullen, through careful observation over our past year working together I have deduced that _this_ is the problem." He picked up the beaker of slightly coagulated blood and set it on his desk. Carlisle turned his head away to avoid looking at it. His veins popped from his forehead as he strained to keep his composure. Hawthorne stood up and walked back into Carlisle's field of vision.

"This problem is overpowering your will to learn, and I _cannot_ accept that. We must fight back, and we _must_ win. You have too much intelligence, too much potential!"

Carlisle looked at the intensity in Hawthorne's face. The kindness was still there, but it was accompanied by a new passion and determination.

"NOW IF YOU CAN STILL FOCUS ON MY VOICE, BE SEATED!" Hawthorne shouted.

Carlisle gripped the chair of the student's desk nearby, and his stone-hard fingers bit into the wood as he carefully eased himself down into the seat.

Hawthorne put a book in front of Carlisle. "You must sit here and read for one hour." He returned to his desk, and turned over an hourglass. "And you must BREATHE."

Carlisle took in a tiny breath and stopped as the smell overtook him again. He used that tiny bit of air. "But… I… may… _kill_… you."

Hawthorne looked up at Carlisle's agonized expression, but there was no fear in his eyes. "No, Carlisle. I do not believe that you have ever killed. I know what a killer looks like. Instead of killing me, when you cannot stand the smell, you will _run away_ from me." He smiled. "And then you will return tomorrow, and we will try again." Then his smile faded. "Now breathe," he commanded.

Carlisle closed his eyes, and gripped the desk again, the impressions of his grasp sinking deeper into the weak wood. He slowly opened his lungs. The blood filled his nostrils, and he was suddenly reminded of the first night that he fed as he began to lose his sense of the world around him. He gripped the desk tighter, fighting to keep his feet on the ground and his body in the seat. His head was swimming with pain and desire; as he tried to exhale a drunken stupor took hold as the aroma flew past his nostrils again lighting his chest, throat and nose ablaze, and his feet felt like they were sliding on a cushion of air. Then he tried to take another breath in, and his will began to falter.

Carlisle gripped the desk tighter, but then he cried out with rage as the desk and chair finally submitted to his strength and splintered into thousands of pieces, and Carlisle bolted from the room.

Carlisle did not return for a week. When he finally darkened Hawthorne's door, he was so gorged with animal blood he felt like he was going to burst. Hawthorne smiled when he saw him.

"Well, two breaths, and you disappear for a week. Let's see if you can handle three this time, shall we?"

Carlisle did not respond but sat down again. He looked up as Hawthorne reached for the box holding the beaker of blood.

"You are cataloging this experiment aren't you?"

Hawthorne nodded. "For your benefit only, Mr. Cullen. My notes from these experiments are your property. The notebooks are here in my locked desk; you are welcome to read my reflections anytime you wish."

"And how long have you been observing me?" Carlisle said a little petulantly.

Hawthorne looked slightly amused. "Since the day we met."

Carlisle sighed and nodded his head. "I would like to thank you for your efforts."

Hawthorne nodded back. "I must confess that as a man of God I have been encouraged meeting a demon with his humanity intact. And as a scientist, meeting you has been more illuminating than any sign from God ever has." He chuckled. "But then, Carlisle, I have considered that you may in fact be a sign from God."

Carlisle shook his head. He knew that Hawthorne was a man of tireless curiosity and flawless logic and that the puzzle of Carlisle must have been relatively simple. To call him a "sign from God," however, offended Carlisle's upbringing and his beliefs.

"Mr. Hawthorne, God has no connection to me. His child Carlisle ceased to exist years ago."

Hawthorne cocked his head. "My data do not suggest that is a reasonable conclusion at all." He smiled again when Carlisle looked up at him. "Let us begin. And try not to destroy every piece of furniture I possess."

~~1676~~

Carlisle walked with a heavy heart toward Hawthorne's office. As time passed he felt more and more restless. His progress with Hawthorne seemed to be accelerating over the years, and Hawthorne did not hesitate to push him further and further than either of them would have imagined when they started. Carlisle was now able to conduct a normal day of study and discussion with an open, dripping cut on Hawthorne's arm. Carlisle no longer disappeared when his coworkers at the carpentry shop cut themselves. And his fear of walking into any unknown situation involving humans was slowly dissipating.

Something, however, was gnawing at Carlisle from the inside. As he walked toward Hawthorne's door the chapel bells tolled five in the morning, and slowly Carlisle came to a stop. He turned toward the chapel and realized that the bell in the chapel matched the pitch of the bell in his father's church. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of ghosts from his past. He proceeded into Hawthorne's office and hung his coat as he walked in.

Hawthorne was upon him almost immediately and handed Carlisle a sheet of paper. "This is your next goal."

Carlisle looked down at the paper. It was a letter addressed to the Regius Professor of Physic, Lord Francis Glisson. It proposed that Carlisle should immediately begin his studies to be trained as a physician. Carlisle was stunned, but before he could protest Hawthorne put a hand up to silence him.

"It is the natural application of your knowledge and scientific prowess. And, I believe, it will be a successful application of our experiments." He sat next to Carlisle. "Imagine the possibilities! A demon becomes a messenger of mercy!"

Carlisle looked down at the letter, considering Hawthorne's vision. For a brief shining moment he appeared to consider it. Hawthorne was the first person who had been completely sympathetic to his plight, and he had given Carlisle the method to help him achieve what he wanted most – to hold onto his humanity.

But then a voice from his past rang in Carlisle's head as clear as the chapel bells: _You are a demon among us! Walking as if you are human!_ Carlisle knew that he had to come to terms with one more part of who he was.

"Professor, I'm not ready." Carlisle handed the paper back to his mentor. "But you are right. It is time for the next step." He stood up. "I need to return home."

Hawthorne was completely horrified that he had somehow pushed Carlisle away. "Whatever for? How can you leave now, after you have made so much progress?"

Carlisle shook his head. "You are right, more than you know. I have made a lot of progress. I have faced a lot of my fears. You are responsible for that, and I thank you for believing in me. But you are also right: I am a demon. And I _must_ face that."

Hawthorne put up his hands, "Carlisle, please, I never meant to imply…"

Carlisle countered, "You were simply reflecting what I had projected to you. It does not matter how you meant it. It is the truth. If I am ever going to be what you have envisioned for me, I must face God first." He walked over to the desk to retrieve Hawthorne's journals; then he turned back to Hawthorne and put out his hand. "Thank you, Professor."

Hawthorne remembered their first meeting in his office nearly five years prior as their friendship came full circle. Hawthorne now took Carlisle's hand and then he jumped because it was as hard and smooth as marble, and as cold as a block of ice. Carlisle held his hand in a firm but gentle grip, and shook it.

Hawthorne looked up into Carlisle's supernaturally amber eyes and conceded defeat. He knew that he was not the man to advise Carlisle on any spiritual crisis. He claimed he was a man of God, but he knew, and Carlisle knew, that his anger with God over the death of his family kept him distant from grace.

Carlisle gave Hawthorne a genuine smile; and Hawthorne thought when Carlisle's porcelain visage registered any happiness it made him look like an angel.

Carlisle walked out of Hawthorne's office, leaving the professor to sit heavily behind his desk, pondering how a vampire could be such a positive force in the life of a human.


	5. Chapter 4: 1678

CHAPTER 4

~~1679~~

Carlisle walked down Lambeth Place Road late at night. He had been walking for nearly thirty-six hours because he knew that the more time he spent acclimating himself, the less pain he would be in around humans. Carlisle recalled running out of the city as a newborn vampire, terrorized by what his senses drew him toward. Now he was observing the city of his birth with a hyper sense of reality, and he had the skills to sift through the noise, to hold his natural desires in check, and, instead, to try to help.

Carlisle was spending more time on the South Bank because that part of London was in the grip of a concurrent outbreak of cholera and scarlet fever. Carlisle remembered Hawthorne's goals for him and decided to volunteer his services as an assistant in one of the local hospitals, where nurses labored mostly to relieve the suffering of the dying. This type of work was entirely different from the work of the upper class Cambridge physics who actually had the luxury to try to prevent deaths. In the hospital he was given the job of carrying the dead to the morgue and stacking them like wood. The burial teams came every two hours.

Carlisle was learning more about what he was able to endure; he was exposed to open wounds daily, and he pushed himself. He felt a moral struggle daily because he still felt he was putting the humans around him in danger, but he could not stop, mostly because he was succeeding. Every day he felt himself becoming stronger. Every day he believed a little more that he might one day conquer his vampire instincts.

One afternoon a young woman was brought in to the clinic; she had become unresponsive a day after cutting her hand while cooking. Carlisle did the initial intake assessment, and then informed the head nurse that she was dying of blood poisoning.

She gave this strange young man a second glance. "How do you know that?"

Carlisle blinked. "I don't know. I think it's the way she, um – _smells_."

"Smells?" The nurse looked at him with disbelief. She leaned over the patient and took a cursory sniff. Then she walked away dismissing him.

As Carlisle walked home that evening he barely paid attention to his surroundings and instead allowed his instincts to take over as he walked. He was considering the possibilities of using the same power to gather more information about the patients. He had denied his sense of smell for so long because it was so utterly connected to his lust for blood that he had not realized what he was depriving himself of. He began to take careful, deeper breaths as he passed humans, and what he discovered was amazing, and alarming. Every other human he passed had some sort of health condition, and he could guess at a diagnosis from simply using his sense of smell.

He was so fascinated that he merely followed his nose most of the evening, all night and into the next day and evening. After he passed Lambeth Place he proceeded to County Hall and he saw a group of people standing in a small crowd. It was several minutes before he realized that he had happened upon an evening street performance. It was a comedy with prat falls and colorful costumes. He was reminded of standing in that very plaza as a child with friends watching similar performances, and the fading human memory carried him away from his present concerns. He was laughing along when suddenly the story changed into a morality tale, and one of the players appeared with sharp fang teeth, causing the children present to scream. Carlisle's smile faded as he remembered seeing many similar vampire tricks in the past. He was suddenly uncomfortable and he turned and quickly left.

He hailed a carriage and paid to be taken directly to the City of London. Carlisle was silent the entire time, watching the buildings flash past him. He tried but could not stop the memories from flooding back from the night he was changed. He closed his eyes and was overwhelmed by images: the moment when the vampire had turned back and Carlisle realized he was under attack, the red eyes of the vampire as he ran toward him, his shaking hand that held the torch in a desperate attempt to penetrate the darkness, Arthur's frightened face as he tried to stop the bleeding from Carlisle's shredded neck, and Arthur's outstretched hand as he reached back to Carlisle when he was carried off by the vampire.

Carlisle's memories were interrupted when the carriage stopped. He stepped out onto the street and knew he was about two blocks away. His senses were on high alert as he walked slowly toward the lane. The stench of the nearby Thames was overpowering and the darkness of night was creeping into the edges of the well-populated area, but Carlisle could see every rat in every shadow. As he came upon the spot where he had fallen he looked down at the stone street and saw no remains or mark of what had happened there. It had been thirteen years since that night. Then as he stared at the spot, suddenly he thought he could see with his vampire eyes traces of blood. He closed his eyes and told himself it was not real. When he reopened them, the shadow of blood he had seen was gone.

Next he turned toward the alley he had stumbled into. Less than half way down the alley he found the cellar door he had opened and crawled through. It was now chained and padlocked. Carlisle put down the temptation to wrench it open. Instead, he walked around to the servant entrance to the house and hesitated for only a moment before he knocked on the door.

A young woman with dark skin answered the door. "Sir, I cannot properly receive you; let me get my mistress."

Carlisle lifted his gloved hand in greeting. "That is quite all right. I just wanted to inquire who the owner of this property is." Carlisle gave her his best "trust me" smile.

She smiled back and trusted him, too easily. But as she began to explain that the master, someone called Mr. Billings, was away, Carlisle caught a more intense whiff of her blood coming off her breath. He was slightly horrified when realized she was the small girl who had been playing at the top of the cellar stairs the morning after his transformation. She was the girl who might have been his first kill.

Carlisle abruptly cut her off, thanked her for her time, and turned and left. Her blood did not tempt him extraordinarily, but the memory of his early thirst was disturbing to him. As he walked out of the claustrophobic alley and took a deep cleansing breath, his eyes turned toward the direction where he had seen his friend Arthur carried off. Carlisle headed toward the river and the sewers where it had all begun.

Carlisle sat inside the opening of the sewer completely oblivious to the filth around him. He contemplated the point of view of the vampire who had sat in this very spot and looked out on the Thames and saw the same waning moon in the sky above.

The vampire who had bitten him had lived in this sewer, probably only for a short time as he most likely moved from place to place, seeking prey and just barely surviving. Carlisle was now able to see very clearly how frighteningly close he had come to such an existence when he was living in the forest. He had nearly become separated from his humanity while he sat around waiting to die.

Carlisle wondered what would have happened to him if he had chanced upon any humans in his weakest state: Would he have fed on them in his delirium instead of on the unfortunate herd of deer? Would he have continued to live on the edge of life, hiding in the darkness until driven by extreme thirst to run out in a deranged state to find another meal? Would he have descended to the sewers like the one he now sat in, immersed in self-loathing each time he came to his senses after feeding and looking down upon another dead human? Would he have forgotten who he was in his human life as the despair of facing an eternity as an agent of death gnawed away at his mind?

Suddenly, Carlisle felt his throat close, and he could not stop one tearless sob from escaping his lips. He did not know how or why he had been saved from such a fate, but he clenched his jaw and his fists as he felt a new iron determination to stay on the path he had chosen.

Sitting right behind him a little way back from the sewer entrance was the charred remains of a vampire. It was an ash-white pile of stone and dust that resembled a burned human. His knees were pulled up and hugged against his thin body, and his skull and yawning jaw frozen in his final scream of agony, were preserved in the stone figure left behind.

There was only one body; the other two who had been with him must have escaped the conflagration. This was very likely the vampire who had bitten him. He must have been very old or at least very weak. Carlisle had tried to use fire to end himself, but he was so new and so strong at the time that it had not affected him at all.

As a final act of mercy, and perhaps even forgiveness, Carlisle pulverized the stone remains of the vampire and scattered them into the Thames. The ancient being had spoken Latin to him the night he was bitten, so this could not have been the river of his homeland, but Carlisle hoped the sea would take him closer to his home.

With a slight crease in his brow, Carlisle watched as the river carried away the remains. He suspected that someone had taken revenge for the events the night of his transformation. There were signs of the fire everywhere along the bank – scorch marks on the sewer masonry and plants that were less overgrown. Carlisle suspected, however, that the arsonist's motivation was not just revenge. His father would have easily deduced, if not witnessed himself, what had happened to Carlisle. The Reverend would not have taken lightly the prospect of having a vampire for a son. Nor would he have likely had any mercy left in his soul. The Reverend had gone to the one place he thought he might find Carlisle with the other vampires… _and he had burned it_.

Carlisle wiped the last of the old vampire's dust from his hands and then headed toward his father's church.

Carlisle stood outside listening to the singing, but he could not quite bring himself to walk in. Carlisle went to the graveyard and looked for Arthur's grave. He found it next to Arthur's sister Elenor.

He wished more than anything to talk to Arthur again. Carlisle unconsciously reached up and felt the bridge of his nose where Arthur had reset the cartilage after the last time the Reverend had displaced it. It was now perfectly aligned and immovable. Arthur had held him together physically and mentally during his years with the Reverend. Carlisle had frustrated Arthur with his martyr-like attitude, but at the time Carlisle could see no other alternative. To prevent the Reverend from harming others, he had taken the burden on himself. The true burden, however, had been taking care of Carlisle. He wanted to thank Arthur for saving him, more than once. It was a debt that Carlisle had hoped to repay but never would.

Suddenly the quiet bell tolled, and Carlisle knew that the service had ended. It took every ounce of Carlisle's control to keep his feet planted where he stood. He found it incredibly ironic that a nearly indestructible being could still be nearly overwhelmed with the instinct to run from the man who had controlled him for so many years of his mortal life.

Carlisle stood among the gravestones and watched as the worshipers filed out of the church. He recognized many faces, and most of them glanced in his direction but did not take any special notice of the unmoving dark figure with a glowing white face observing the end of the service.

Finally, the flow of people slowed to a trickle and then stopped. The double doors still hung open, so Carlisle silently crossed the churchyard, and entered through the doors he had helped to hang when he was a child.

As soon as he looked down the aisle he saw the cross the Reverend had commanded him to carve. After Carlisle had taken a few steps, he turned around and looked above the entrance of the church. There, still hanging over the entrance, was the Reverend's four-foot cross, slightly darkened with age. He was nearly overcome with emotion at seeing it. He thought that seeing it again would pain him, but instead it awoke in him a familiar longing for his humanity. Even with so much tragedy and hardship, he cherished his memories of his mortal life.

The church was completely empty, but the altar candles were still burning. The Reverend had not yet left for the evening. Carlisle could hear footsteps and the rustle of fabric; the Reverend was hanging up his robes. Carlisle sat in his usual position, second row right, and leaned forward on the back of the front pew with his hands folded in prayer.

As the Reverend reentered the sanctuary, he paused when he saw Carlisle. Carlisle kept his eyes closed; he prayed for the strength to have this conversation and that it would end peacefully.

"I apologize, my son; I thought everyone had left."

Carlisle's eyes snapped open, and he lifted his face. The man in the Reverend's clothes was not his father.

Carlisle stood up and nodded to the stranger. "It is I who ought to apologize. I did not mean to trespass. I was looking for Reverend Cullen. I attended this church over a decade ago."

The new Reverend's smile faded slightly. "It grieves me to be the bearer of such news, but Reverend Cullen is dead. He died two years ago of scarlet fever, which took a good number of this congregation. I came from the country just before he died."

Carlisle nodded. He had surmised what had happened the moment he saw this small, round man with a kind smile and missing teeth. Carlisle was surprised at how little the news affected him. He did not even regret missing the opportunity to confront his father or that he had actually been in London when his father died. It was strangely liberating to never have to face him again. And he found it difficult to repent of that relief.

"Was there something in particular you need of this church, or were you simply looking to find Reverend Cullen?"

Carlisle looked back at the Reverend and grimaced slightly. "I was looking for Reverend Cullen for an entirely different reason, but… there is actually something I need to work out with God."

The new Reverend was intrigued and sat down on the front pew with his face turned toward Carlisle. "Please, go on, my son."

Carlisle sat down and looked down at his hands and then back up at his cross. "The last time I spoke to the Reverend, we were discussing God and the Devil and forces of light and dark. The Reverend always believed that there is only one or the other. I believed that there is light and dark in everything, and everyone. Even a person surrounded by light may still have the darkness inside him."

The Reverend seemed to process everything Carlisle was saying. "Go on."

Carlisle sighed. "I need to know how much darkness can be overcome and what it is that makes the final separation from God. If there are forces outside one's control driving you, tossing you down into the darkness, can you find your way back?"

The Reverend looked at Carlisle intently, clearly sizing him up. Carlisle looked down at his hands again, uncomfortable with such intense scrutiny.

"What darkness are you fighting, my son?" the Reverend said, a little wary.

Carlisle turned his head and looked back at the Reverend's cross sadly. "It is in my entire being."

The Reverend followed Carlisle's gaze and then looked back at him. Suddenly, he jumped up.

Carlisle looked back at the Reverend and in an instant knew he had been recognized. He could smell the adrenaline being dumped into the Reverend's blood and seeping out his sweat pores.

Carlisle put up his hands and made his expression as soft as possible, "Do not fear; do not fear!"

The Reverend was backing away from Carlisle, holding up his gold crucifix. "_You_…you are his _son_! He warned me about you! You look so… human!" He was breathing quickly and Carlisle could hear his heart pounding. "How? How can you look… even sound so like an… _angel_?"

Carlisle lifted his open hands, "Truly I will _not_ hurt you. I need your help! I need your counsel!"

"LEAVE! Leave this House of God at once!" The Reverend's hand landed on the altar, and the first thing he reached for was one of the large candleholders with three long tapers in it. "BE GONE!"

"Please! I will do what you wish. Just be calm!" Carlisle began to back away with his hands still lifted, but the Reverend suddenly tripped over his own feet and the burning candles went flying.

Carlisle was able to move faster than sight and catch two of the candles, but the third landed on the cloth banner to the right of the altar. The dye used in the banner had to have been combustible, because it instantly became engulfed in flame.

The Reverend screamed, partially in fright because Carlisle had moved so fast and partially because he wasn't sure if Carlisle had actually set the fire. He was frozen in fear for his life, so Carlisle had to pull him up off the floor.

"RUN!! RUN!!" He shook the stunned human and physically threw him the first few steps toward the doors; and finally the terrified man ran from the sanctuary. The entire rectory behind the altar was already ablaze. Carlisle glanced at the blaze and knew there was nothing he could do. He took one last look at the cross he had carved as the flames licked the sides of it. Carlisle was almost happy to see it burn, along with all of the pain it represented. Then he turned back to the cross of the Reverend, and in an instant he pulled the cross off the wall. The Reverend's cross embodied the best parts of his human life, his mother and the remains of his faith.

Carlisle ran out the back door of the blazing church, and spirited away with the cross. He never saw his father's grave, but he never regretted it. He left his past behind him vowing never to return.


	6. Chapter 5: 1679

CHAPTER 5

~~1679~~

Carlisle walked slowly across the courtyard and noted how little things had changed. He knew every worn step in the stairwell, and there was still a dent in the familiar door where he had knocked too hard one afternoon. There was no immediate answer. It had been over five years since he had walked out, and he hoped that the tenant had not left.

Carlisle turned his ear toward the door and heard snoring on the other side. It was Hawthorne – he was sure of it – and a few more moments of careful listening told him that Hawthorne was alone. Carlisle's brow furrowed slightly. Hawthorne was alone and asleep at ten o'clock in the morning?

Carlisle carefully forced the lock on the door, causing as little damage as he could, and then quickly re-bent the mechanism into its proper shape as he re-latched the door. It was dark inside; the curtains were drawn, and there was an overwhelming odor of maladjusted living. Carlisle threw open the curtains and took a full assessment of the mess.

Hawthorne was asleep on his workbench, his hand gripping a bottle of wine. The apartment was covered in soiled clothes and half-eaten food. The lab was unkempt and dirty. The books and stacks were completely scattered, notes unfiled.

Carlisle's face became grieved. He had caused more harm than he could have ever predicted by leaving his mentor. Carlisle walked over to Hawthorne and pulled the wine bottle from his grasp. He could see there was no danger of rousing him. He lifted the unconscious man easily, though Hawthorne had clearly gained nearly forty pounds in the last five years, and deposited him on the small bed in the private room.

Carlisle then proceeded to clean up the mess. He spent most of the day reorganizing the books and notes, and cleaning the worktable and lab where he had spent countless hours.

Under a pile of rags and other detritus he found the wooden chest from their blood experiments. Carlisle opened it and found the letter Hawthorne had written to the Regius Professor of the Physic for him. He put the letter back inside, picked up the chest and put it on the worktable.

Then he heard retching in the private room. Carlisle ran in quickly and turned the old man on his side to prevent him from choking on his own vomit. He then cleaned him up and started to change his foul clothes. As Carlisle turned Hawthorne on his side he noticed something; he pressed his hand into Hawthorne's side, causing him to grunt in protest as he slept, but Carlisle could easily feel what he knew was a significantly enlarged liver.

Carlisle pulled off Hawthorne's shirt and took a closer look at his belly. The massive girth shook easily, too easily. It was fluid, not fat. Carlisle turned his head toward the chamber pot he had used to hold Hawthorne's vomit. He had already smelled the blood, but when he looked inside he saw more blood than he expected. Carlisle bowed his head. Hawthorne was dying.

For a brief moment Carlisle considered leaving as he wondered if reappearing so suddenly would not be a terribly cruel act. But then his compassion for his mentor overwhelmed that inclination. Hawthorne deserved a caretaker.

Carlisle ran back to the inn where he had deposited his belongings and quickly arranged for an evening meal to be prepared for Hawthorne. Then he retrieved a few of his books and paid for his room for the week.

When Carlisle returned with the food and supplies Hawthorne still had not moved. He put the meal next to the hearth to keep it as warm as possible until the old man awoke. As Carlisle cleaned the common room he found a stash of ale and wine. He grimaced, realizing how bad the situation was; he was not going to be able to throw away the alcohol. Hawthorne was going to have to be weaned off or allowed to drink until he died. Carlisle would have to give him that choice.

He made a little space for his books and belongings and around two o'clock the chapel rang the morning hour as Carlisle was reading a book he had bought in London about maladies of the liver. When he heard Hawthorne stirring, he looked up.

Hawthorne stumbled slightly as he walked out into the common room. He did not even note that Carlisle was sitting in the chair by the fire closest to the front door. He simply went directly to the opposite corner by the window to the large trunk that held his alcohol. When he opened it he cursed loudly because though Carlisle had not thrown the bottles away, he had moved them so the trunk was empty. Then Hawthorne turned to the window and realized it was either very late or very early, so getting more provisions would have to wait. He sat heavily on the trunk and sighed. Then he put a hand to his right side and grimaced from the pain.

"Your pain is getting worse?" Carlisle said quietly.

Hawthorne looked up at the pale figure and shook his head. "Mr. Cullen, leave me alone. I'm tired of talking to you."

Carlisle smiled slightly. "I haven't spoken to you in over five years, Professor."

Hawthorne did a double take. He closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened his eyes again, Carlisle had soundlessly crossed the room and was now crouching next to Hawthorne. Hawthorne nearly fell off the trunk with surprise, but Carlisle caught him, lifted him up and put him down on the couch by the fire.

Hawthorne's eyes were wide with disbelief, and he was completely speechless. Carlisle sat down nearby with a small smile on his lips and waited for Hawthorne to recover from the shock of seeing the sophisticatedly dressed and confident incarnation of his former student. Hawthorne tore his amazed eyes from the graceful blonde vampire and took a cursory glance around the room.

"Now I understand why this place is so clean," Hawthorne mumbled.

Carlisle merely smiled again.

"Do I smell hot food?" he said with a raspy voice.

Carlisle nodded.

"You have learned to cook?" Hawthorne lifted his brow.

Carlisle chuckled. "I always knew how to cook; I just don't eat." He walked over to the covered bowl and brought it to Hawthorne with a spoon.

Hawthorne was still slightly dumbfounded and ate the stew with quiet relish, keeping one eye on Carlisle, who sat and waited patiently.

"I really wish you would not sit there and watch me. You become a little creepy when you do that," Hawthorne said grumpily.

Carlisle flitted over to the chair he had been sitting in and picked up his book. Hawthorne continued to watch Carlisle sit and read silently as he ate. He knew he was still at least partially drunk, and he half expected Carlisle to disappear again. When he finished eating Carlisle took the bowl and set it aside. Then he went to the cupboard where he had put all of the alcohol and locked it in. He heard Hawthorne curse again.

"What are you doing, hiding my wine?" Hawthorne exclaimed.

Carlisle turned around and was holding a full cup. He walked over to Hawthorne and handed it to him. Hawthorne looked back at Carlisle as he sat down again next to him. Carlisle leaned forward onto his knees and held Hawthorne with his deep golden gaze.

"I'm sure you realize that you are dying. I am going to stay with you. I need to know what you want me to do." Carlisle's face became quite serious. "I will unlock the cupboard if you wish."

Hawthorne looked down at the cup of wine in his hand. Then he sighed and looked back at Carlisle and a half-smile pulled up his chubby cheek. "Unlock it, Mr. Cullen. We'll make it a death worthy of your return." And then he tossed back the entire cup.

Carlisle was somewhat relieved to not have to nurse Hawthorne through alcohol withdrawal, which was a common problem in the indigent clinics where he had worked in London. Instead, he simply had to dose Hawthorne every few hours, and he remained marginally intoxicated and relatively affable. Hawthorne had Carlisle telling stories of his adventures in London, of what he had observed, and of the general state of humanity there.

Several days later, however, Hawthorne took a turn for the worse. The pain in his right side was increasing, and the alcohol could not give him any more relief. He was vomiting up blood regularly and unable to eat due to the pain. Soon he was unable to get out of bed. Carlisle suspected the bleeding would kill him before the cancer in his liver would. Carlisle obtained some laudanum in case things turned ugly.

When Carlisle returned that afternoon he found Hawthorne at his workbench. He was just closing the wooden chest.

"Professor, please, you really shouldn't move around a lot when I'm not here, I'm afraid you could fall and injure yourself," Carlisle said gently, putting his hat and cloak on the chair near the door.

Hawthorne hobbled over to the couch, and Carlisle helped him find a comfortable position. Hawthorne breathed heavily through the pain and wiped his brow with his sleeve. Then he looked up at Carlisle's concerned amber eyes.

"Why did you come back, Mr. Cullen?" Hawthorne shook his head. "Why did you come back now, when I'm in such a sad state?"

Carlisle had been so preoccupied he hadn't thought about it much since the day he had returned. "I thought I was returning to begin my training." Carlisle looked up at Hawthorne. "But the truth is, I came back to see you, Professor."

Hawthorne's eyes shined with tears and he looked away to the window. Carlisle had not truly realized how much Hawthorne cared until that moment. He knew Hawthorne deserved to hear everything.

"I went to see my father," Carlisle said softly.

Hawthorne looked back at him, his brows lifted.

"He had died of scarlet fever two years prior to my return," Carlisle said dispassionately. "I discovered that after I was bitten he tried to hunt me down and destroy me." His brow knitted. "He never in my entire life did anything to benefit me." He looked up at Hawthorne. "I deserted the one man who did."

Hawthorne smiled slightly. "Yes, well, I did not have entirely pure motivations either, my boy. You were the prodigy that I had been seeking my entire career. You were my crutch. As long as I focused on you, I was able to ignore myself. And you can see how talented I am at taking care of myself." He laughed. "But none of that is your fault." He shook his head. "You left when you needed to. That is what a young man should do."

Carlisle smiled. "I'm thirty-six now."

Hawthorne chuckled. "You don't look a day over nineteen, although the way you carry yourself now, makes you seem older. But I'm over fifty now, so you should listen to the old man." Hawthorne leaned forward. "I know you see your life as a curse, but believe me, God has purpose for you. You are unique among humanity, so I must conclude you are one of a kind among vampires. Others in the past may have attempted what you are about to embark upon, but their accomplishments will pale next to yours. Your will, your intelligence and your compassion are unparalleled. You have a radiance about you that I cannot fully comprehend." Hawthorne smiled slightly at Carlisle's disbelieving expression.

"Oh, how I envy you. To have an eternity to dedicate to books and learning!" He laughed at such trivial thoughts, and Carlisle had to smile. "There are so many things I would do that I never pursued in this life! Music, engineering, philosophy!" He seemed to relish that last subject in particular. He turned back to Carlisle. "Do not waste it. Find your peace in helping others. You _are_ a sign from God, Carlisle."

Later that night Hawthorne slipped into a coma, and three days later he died. Carlisle arranged the burial with the university and spoke at the evening funeral.

There was a light drizzle the entire day, almost as if Hawthorne somehow had made certain that Carlisle would not be caught indoors due to a sunny day. The chapel bell tolled as the small crowd gathered, and they all stared at Carlisle as they entered. He nodded at each of the professors and administrators but did not shake any hands.

The lack of sun outside made the interior of the church very dim. Candles were lit to help those with failing sight to read their scripture. Then Carlisle stood up at the pulpit. He could see they were intimidated by his size and Carlisle frowned at the crowd because they were all wondering about him and not thinking of Hawthorne.

"My name is Carlisle, and Professor Hawthorne asked me to speak today because I was one of his last students. But, the professor was more than just a teacher. He saw me for who I was; he helped me to better myself when I was in a dark place. He was a friend to me when no one else would have dared. He taught me to love learning again. He gave me direction when I had none. He showed me how I could learn to live in the world again. He was the savior of my humanity. He will always be more of a father to me than mine ever was."

Carlisle was gratified when by the end of his speech there were some wet eyes and many nodding heads. He was too tall to carry Hawthorne's coffin on his shoulder as a pallbearer, but he easily supported the coffin with his arm in the procession out to the burial site in the chapel cemetery.

The drizzle continued as they lowered the coffin, and as Carlisle dropped in the first handful of dirt he whispered, "Thank you."

Carlisle assisted with cleaning out Hawthorne's office, and the university clerk brought Carlisle Hawthorne's will. Hawthorne had changed his Last Will and Testament while Carlisle was still in Cambridge and left everything to Carlisle. He didn't bother to change it again after Carlisle left.

Hawthorne had been a man of means before he married. When he married he had been elevated by his wife's dowry to a status where he never had to work again. When his wife died he returned to his first love, academia. Because he lived a simple life in Cambridge, his untouched wealth had grown significantly during the last twenty years of his life.

Carlisle made arrangements to sell the land and property that Hawthorne had inherited and liquefied everything else but his books and notes. Most of them he donated to the university, but he kept certain medical texts and a few others with sentimental value, which he packed away carefully.

The last thing Carlisle retrieved was the wooden chest from the worktable. He opened it and found again the letter Hawthorne had written for him. But now there was a new item. Carlisle picked it up and recognized it as Hawthorne's family crest ring. He had noticed that Hawthorne had not been wearing it the last few days before he died. Carlisle had assumed that Hawthorne's fingers had simply gotten too swollen for him to wear it any longer. But Hawthorne had left it to him.

Carlisle put the ring on his left ring finger, and it was only slightly loose. Carlisle was so moved by this final gesture, essentially naming Carlisle as the heir of Hawthorne's family line, that he briefly considered taking Hawthorne's name. But Carlisle finally decided that he needed to remember where he came from, no matter how much distance he put between himself and England.

Carlisle flexed his hand that now bore the ring and then picked up the wooden chest and walked out of the university apartments.


	7. Chapter 6: 1686

CHAPTER 6

~~1686~~

"Hold him down!" the master surgeon barked. Carlisle took extra care not to break the man's bones with his iron grip. He forced himself to keep breathing the scent that set fire to his throat every time he took a gulp of air, but he did turn his head away to avoid a squirt of bright red blood. The master surgeon saw Carlisle turn away and scowled. "So help me, boy, if you don't do your job I will find a little _child_ who can!"

Carlisle finally gave up trying to desensitize his nose and stopped breathing and then focused on applying the right pressure with the tourniquet. He had worked around a lot of blood and body fluids in his five years of training in the hospital, but when there were open arteries spouting fountains of blood right before his eyes Carlisle still had not found a place he could go with his mind where he could completely keep his focus. It was excruciating work, but the mental defeat was even worse. Carlisle was very, very frustrated.

A twist of fate or luck had brought Carlisle to the attention of the master surgeon, a physic called Moreau, and Carlisle had accepted a position training with him in a somewhat masochistic attempt to seek a breakthrough. For two months he had worked inhuman hours with the master.

Moreau never gave a first name to anyone. Carlisle supposed that a few of the older physics must know his real name, but no one seemed inclined to reveal it or even whisper it. There were wild rumors among the students about Moreau being a former government assassin, a spy, a pirate, and even a fallen royal family member.

The man was struggling less and turning pale. Carlisle looked up at his enigmatic teacher. Moreau worked skillfully at repairing the artery that had been slashed in a knife fight on the streets of Paris. Suddenly the man lost consciousness and went limp in Carlisle's hands. Amazingly, Moreau worked even faster. Carlisle had never seen a human with such nimble fingers. Within seconds the artery was repaired. Then Carlisle released the tourniquet, allowing a little venous blood in the leg to return to the man's system, and his color improved slightly.

"Well, if the bastard has enough blood left, he might live to revenge his assault and be back on our table in a month," Moreau growled as he threw down his tools and wiped blood and copious sweat from his face.

Carlisle began to breathe again, and Moreau immediately turned toward him with a raised eyebrow. "Were you HOLDING your breath?" he said incredulously.

Carlisle did not dare look up at Moreau. He knew better than that.

"Get out of my theatre! Come back when you've collected your senses, you incompetent BRAT!" Moreau thundered.

Carlisle exited Moreau's presence closing the door behind him of the small operating room where they performed the particularly disturbing operations. The thin walls did slightly muffle the sound of screaming patients. He sighed with relief as he walked quickly away and began to strip off his blood-soaked apron as he walked down the hall toward the larger patient wards. The last few months had been particularly difficult, but he could not deny that working with the surgeons was the most amazing challenge he had met since beginning his work in indigent hospitals ten years before in London. And he was still clinging to the hope that as long as he continued Hawthorne's method he would find a way to work as a physic without pain. He just needed more time. Carlisle smiled ruefully. Time was exactly what he had.

"The old pirate kicked you out again, did he, kid?" A man in his twenties with long dark hair walked up beside Carlisle with a twinkle in his ice blue eyes.

Carlisle allowed a small smile to creep into the edges of his mouth but did not meet his friend's gaze. Pierre was five months older than the twenty-four years Carlisle was now claiming, and had started his training at the hospital only six months before Carlisle. Many others had come and left the training; they alone had survived the last five years together.

"The secret spy allowed me to stay until he finished this time, Pierre," Carlisle shrugged.

Pierre laughed out loud. "I think you are the _only_ student to see an entire surgery by Moreau. He must believe you are the future master of surgeons, or a possible future surgeon to the Dauphin."

Carlisle chuckled. "No matter how perfect my French is, an Englishman will never be allowed into the inner sanctum of Versailles."

Pierre shook his head. "All you have to do is meet my friends, and they can get you an audience with the Duchesse. She will introduce you at court."

Carlisle turned his head slightly toward his friend. "How can you think of such things? How is that frivolity at all worthy of your time?"

Pierre laughed again. "If I did not meet my friends and discuss the frivolity of Descartes occasionally, all of this suffering would drive me mad."

Carlisle stopped walking and turned to look into his friend's eyes. "Are those thoughts not more worthy of a conversation with God than with humans?"

Pierre lifted an eyebrow. "God?" Then he smirked. "Come now, Carlisle, you are a good British Catholic boy, you know what Hell looks like. You know God does not exist in this abyss. He has forgotten these people. God cannot help me through this work." Pierre waved a hand toward the rows of dying poor, unable to look back at them while admitting his despair. Carlisle frowned, considering Pierre's bleak perspective, but then a booming voice interrupted his thoughts.

"MONSIEUR CULLEN!" Moreau was back.

Pierre's head turned as quickly as Carlisle's. Then he looked back at Carlisle's slightly frightened expression.

"I did not think you could blanche any whiter, my ghostly friend," Pierre laughed. "You'd better run, kid, or the government assassin may come after you with a cleaver."

Carlisle tried to laugh off Pierre's comments but then turned and rushed back toward Moreau.

As he ran up, Moreau stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was several inches shorter than Carlisle but much more solidly built. His disapproving stare and deep frown was withering, but Carlisle was never as intimidated as Moreau wished he was because Carlisle knew what true hatred looked like. Moreau's expression in no way resembled his father's countenance.

"Yes, Monsieur!" Carlisle stood at attention and did not look at Moreau.

Moreau growled low in his throat for a moment. "Get your pathetic bony ass in here." Then he turned and walked back into his theatre.

Carlisle was completely taken by surprise. He did not hear a new patient inside or any other staff. Carlisle rushed in after Moreau. As soon as he crossed the threshold he realized what his heightened senses had been telling him, and the wave hit him in the face: death. There was so much death everywhere in the hospital he actually did not notice it as much as simply accepted the stench along with the smell of the living humans. This room, however, held the uncompromising reek of recent death – an odor even humans can appreciate but never experience as acutely as vampires.

"Do you know why this man is dead, Monsieur Cullen?" Moreau was circling the table, which held the corpse of the patient on which they had just operated. Carlisle could still feel the residual heat radiating from the dead man's body. Even after the heart stopped, the remainder of the body continued to struggle to maintain life, until all physiologic processes failed, one by one. Because Carlisle was so close and acutely aware of this body he could sense the slow death of each organ, as Moreau continued to stare at him, waiting for an answer.

Carlisle held his back straight. "Monsieur, the patient had a severe incised wound of his femoral artery and lost approximately one third of his blood despite the successful repair by our master surgeon," Carlisle said quickly.

Moreau now stared at Carlisle with narrowed eyes. "No, Monsieur Cullen, that is not why he died."

Carlisle held perfectly still and awaited his lashing.

Moreau stood right next to Carlisle and stared at him for a few seconds before he whispered, "Are you an angel of death, Monsieur Cullen?"

Carlisle's eyes widened, and he looked down at Moreau with just a little panic creeping into his face. In an instant he recalled his escape plan: he would leave most of his possessions behind, and he had a small but significant reserve of money hidden and easily accessible…

Moreau did not notice that Carlisle was completely frozen as he resumed pacing. "Monsieur Cullen, I suggest you go home this morning and contemplate your career." Moreau cleared his throat. "You have precision and stamina that I have not seen in a decade." This admission of any redeeming quality in Carlisle seemed to leave a severely bitter taste in his mouth. But Carlisle then realized his secret was safe, and he tried to refocus his thoughts on what Moreau was prattling on about.

"Monsieur Cullen, PAY ATTENTION!! THIS is what I am talking about!" Moreau waved his arms at Carlisle. "You LACK FOCUS!!" He pointed a finger at Carlisle's long, straight nose. "Every time you come close to demonstrating what you are REALLY capable of, or every time I am trying to TEACH you something, you seem to drift off to some other place and daydream about things other than what is RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!" Moreau turned to the table and lifted the dead man's arm and shook it at Carlisle to emphasize his last five words. He dropped the arm back to the table, and it landed with a dramatic thud. Moreau moved closer to Carlisle again. "Until you dedicate yourself to this endeavor, FULLY dedicate yourself, you will continue to kill people." Then he lifted up the tourniquet.

Carlisle stared at the tool in Moreau's hand and wondered how many people were going to die while he trained himself to ignore his instincts. Experiments that put no one in danger were one affair, but trying to be something against his very nature was playing with people's lives to achieve his goal.

Moreau leveled his narrow gaze into Carlisle's golden stare. Carlisle dropped his eyes slightly. With that small act of contrition Moreau was finally satisfied that Carlisle had listened.

"Now move this man to the morgue, and go home, Angel of Death." Moreau snorted at his new joke as he headed for the door. "And pray to Almighty God that he will reclaim your soul!" Moreau shouted as he left the room and walked out into the hall.

Carlisle looked down at the body. He wasn't sure he could pray. He hadn't tried since he sat in his father's church, before it burned to the ground. His prayer since the night he was transformed was that God would strike him down. That prayer had gone unanswered. Carlisle felt more disconnected from God than ever.

Carlisle wrapped the body in a sheet, and then easily laid it over his shoulder. He carried it down to the basement level and carefully deposited it on the pile for pickup later that evening. As he turned to leave he noticed a corpse on an autopsy table. He moved closer, curious about what they had found. He noted that there was no blood on the floor, or on the corpse. Then he realized it was completely drained of blood. Carlisle immediately lifted the chin of the fully rigor body, and found what he suspected: a half-moon bite mark. _Sloppy to allow a body to be found… like the vampire who bit me, _Carlisle grimaced.

Carlisle leaned on the autopsy table and stared at the bite mark. He had seen several bodies like this one over the years on unnamed victims. He had not actively sought out his kind in more than forty years as a vampire. He had many questions, and his long study of himself and his body now filled over 100 notebooks locked in his cabinet. Something still kept him from seeking others like him. If he did find them, he wondered, how would they perceive him and his unwillingness to feed on humans or his wish to live as a human? Would they merely mock him, or would they destroy him?

Carlisle walked slowly back up the stairs to the ward. He washed his hands in the tub of bloody water merely to prevent staining his clothes with blood and retrieved his coat and hat.

"Dismissed already?" Pierre said lightly.

Carlisle had heard his friend coming long before his footfalls were audible to human ears. He wanted to talk to Pierre and had taken his time preparing to leave. He turned toward his friend. "I feel the need for a discussion of ethics. Is your invitation to the salon still open?"

Pierre grinned widely. "They are going to be very intrigued by you."

Carlisle did not like the sound of that. He had come so close to panic just a short time ago when he thought he had been discovered. But he had to start somewhere and he was not ready for another confrontation with the church – not yet. He would start with some _philosophes_.

Carlisle walked up to his apartments off the Avenue des Champs-Elysees, admiring the aromas of spring green and carefully tended flowers. The early morning moon was large and low, just peeking over the buildings of Paris.

He had emerged under a full moon from the English Channel in Calais in 1681 looking more like a wet rat than a gentleman. He had to swim after the ship that transported his belongings because there was no way to avoid the sun on a ship.

Once in Calais he went through another transformation. He kept his name, but he was now a nineteen-year-old son from a Catholic family escaping persecution by coming to France, and was on his way to Paris. He was maintaining this façade to fit in better in the society ruled by the Catholic-dominated court of Versailles. Over the year prior to sailing he had concluded his consolidation of Hawthorne's estate and had arranged a relationship with a solicitor in Paris who had connections to Hawthorne's wife's family. Msr. Francois Perenott already had Carlisle's bank accounts and apartment set up prior to his arrival. The carriage ride from Calais to Paris was much more pleasant than the turbulent swim from Dover to the French coast.

Soon after his arrival in Paris he began working at a local public clinic as he had done in London and quickly caught the eye of local physics, who had inquired about his previous training. He claimed to have none – just a close relationship with his family physic. They took him under their wings and soon began training him in _triage_.

Pierre had started the training just before Carlisle and at first he was wary of the pale, young newcomer. One evening he helped Pierre with a woman who was complaining of a terrible rash that covered her body. Pierre was at his wit's end because he could not find a systemic cause. Carlisle pointed out that she was wearing wool undergarments that seemed to irritate her skin. They laughed all night. Despite Carlisle's clearly superior knowledge and skill, Pierre had assumed an older brother role due to his supposedly greater age and he had become quite fond of Carlisle even though his manner was quiet and secretive.

Carlisle was nervous about finally meeting more of Pierre's friends, or even just expanding his social circle. He was not sure about how this would affect his cover of mystery.

He entered his apartments and was greeted by his maidservant. He feigned weariness from his shift at the hospital and then withdrew to his bedchamber that was already cleaned and set. Carlisle lay out on the settee completely still and contemplated the following evening.

The Duchesse's _palais_ was just outside the center of Paris, and Carlisle could feel the heat of all the guests before he even crossed the threshold. The salon was a gathering of great and lesser minds and was financed by the Duchesse primarily for her own amusement. Carlisle walked into what was the opulently gilded main parlor of the house, and a tidal wave of sensory information engulfed him. The playful tones of a light and gay string quartet with a soprano belting out some lyrics about her latest lover floated through the far doorway from the high, arched ceilings of the music room. There was a group smoking hand-rolled tobacco in one corner near an open window and partially concealed by the heavy silk drapery and Carlisle caught the scent of their blood diluted by copious champagne.

There was a group of ladies wearing clashing floral perfumes and large feathers that floated two feet above their heads, lounging on large couches and eating chocolates. They instantly noted Carlisle's entrance, and with his superior hearing he could discern their comments on his viciously pale complexion and deliciously lean figure.

There were several sets of pairs and triples walking between the series of rooms, completely oblivious to all to all the fine pieces of artwork, the sculpture, and even the wealth of intellect all around them; instead, they were discussing completely inane and vapid topics like the color of the Dauphin's hat that day. And Carlisle could hear that within the rooms several couples were radiating heat and endorphins as they engaged in various levels of copulation in the dark corners not illuminated by candlelight.

In the far corner of the main room standing next to one of the four fireplaces was a tall, slim man who had also watched Carlisle's entrance. He was near to a small group of men with various levels of formal dress who were engaged in the one of the few intellectual conversations. The man by the fireplace watched Carlisle take stock of every occupant in the room. Then one of his group headed straight for Carlisle.

Pierre had been engaged in a vigorous debate, but as soon as he saw Carlisle he hurried over. "Welcome! Welcome, Monsieur Cullen! You must first meet the Duchesse; then I will need your help to convince these fools that Cartesian Rationalism is not dead, for the Demon trickster is among us!" He laughed, tossing a glance back at the tall man by the fireplace.

Carlisle was steered over to the group of women lounging with the chocolates. The most impressively dressed woman in the group was introduced as the Duchesse. Carlisle kept his face perfectly neutral and formal and held her eyes in an unblinking gaze, his back perfectly straight as he bowed low. She nodded her head but despite her best attempts to appear bored with the introduction Carlisle heard her heart rate increase. He could see pulsing arteries in her neck and feel the warmth of a slight flush in her cheeks under her painted white face which could not hide the fact that she was well into her forties.

When Carlisle stood up again it was quite apparent to all that he was the second tallest man in the room. The man still watching him from the fireplace was perhaps an inch or two taller but significantly skinnier. All the women looked up at Carlisle in wonder. Pierre grinned as the entire room quieted and everyone tried to discreetly gawk at the introduction. Then he immediately brought Carlisle to the group in the corner, and Carlisle heard the women discussing his physical attributes once again behind him. He cringed slightly internally.

The tall man standing next to the fireplace did not wait to be introduced before he stepped forward, somewhat rudely. "That was the biggest reaction I've seen from the Duchesse in years." Then he lifted one brow and the same side of his thin mouth turned upward giving him quite an impish look.

"Monsieur De Molineus is used to being the most impressive man in the room; ignore his jealous ill-humor." Pierre quipped.

"Alain De Molineus." The tall slim man lowered his lifted brow and then bowed.

"Carlisle Cullen." Carlisle returned the bow.

"Cullen? You are British?" Alain's other brow lifted independently of the first one in the same high arch.

Carlisle nodded. "Catholic British."

"Ah, _calamité_! We need an atheist in this debate!" Alain put his hand to his forehead in mock anguish.

The other men in the group chuckled at Alain's theatrics. Pierre turned toward them. When Carlisle regarded this motley crew he wondered if he had overdressed for his gathering; his pale gray silk had seemed subdued when he dressed. Among the elite in the room he did look bland, but his suit outshone the darker tones and poorer fabrics of a few of his new companions. However, they were each obviously educated gentlemen of means; they simply lacked the fashion sense of some others in the room.

Pierre pointed toward the first man. "Monsieur Cullen, may I introduce Monsieur Gaudet."

A red-haired man with a warm smile who smelled of his fish dinner stood up. "Thierry Gaudet."

"Monsieur Lechevalier."

A man with a very young face, wide green eyes, and a white wig stood up. "René Lechevalier."

"Monsieur Prideaux."

A man with olive skin, dark hair, and blood with an aroma like moist earth smiled at Carlisle. "Luc Prideaux, Monsieur Cullen."

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance." Carlisle nodded to each of them. "And I am religious by birth, but in spirit, God and I have a few… differences." All of the men cheered, except Alain, who smiled broadly.

Across the room, the Duchesse watched the handsome newcomer for the rest of the evening.

Carlisle began meeting the group of _philophes_ three times a week. They would meet at the Duchesse's salon on Saturday evenings. Monday they met for brandy at the _Léon_, a dining room and lounge. And once a week they would attend some kind of lecture or performance chosen by Pierre. He was the only one connected in the universities, so he had the most knowledge of events.

Alain and Pierre had attended university classes together, but Alain decided he was superior to the professors and dropped out while Pierre continued to bear the brunt of tyrannical professors. Thierry and Luc were a little older and had graduated, and their independent fortunes afforded them the leisure to continue intellectual pursuits, which quite often involved significant wine consumption. René was the baby and was mostly there because he worshiped Alain. René confided in Carlisle that it was his intention to go to university, but he enjoyed the superior company of the gentlemen and found giving up the lifestyle a difficult prospect.

Pierre and Carlisle often found themselves on the same side of an argument, but Carlisle knew that Alain just enjoyed pitting his intellect against the next strongest mind in the group. Sometimes the others would fall asleep as Alain and Carlisle refused to let them get a word in. Luc was the only one who could get under Alain's skin with his snide sarcasm, and he would often wink at Carlisle once he finally succeeded in turning Alain's head.

Work remained primary, but for the first time Carlisle began to look forward to his time outside of work. The release of entering the social sphere alleviated an ailment Carlisle did not even realize was plaguing him: achingly abysmal loneliness. He had been in survival mode for so long, hiding from everyone, including himself, that the last time Carlisle had a group of acquaintances with whom to waste away the time had been in boarding school. The happy memories came flooding back, and Carlisle began to relax.

Moreau began to notice the change in Carlisle's demeanor over the next couple of years, and as Carlisle relaxed, Moreau actually did too. They were working more smoothly, and with their speed and Moreau's expertise, together they were developing quite a reputation as the miracle workers of the night shift. Soon Moreau began letting Carlisle take the lead. He was precise, but he still had limits, and Moreau watched him carefully.

One evening a screaming young woman was brought into the theatre. She was giving birth, but all that was coming out was blood. "We have to remove her uterus, or both she and the child will die!" Moreau yelled. Their new assistant held the woman down as Moreau made the first incision. Within seconds he had the uterus open and the child out, and he walked away trying to revive the child. Carlisle was expected to finish the surgery.

Carlisle quickly lifted the engorged uterus and began to count the vessels as he clamped them off, but suddenly the aroma of the uterus in his hands began to overwhelm his senses. The heat from the blood was rising in his face, and then suddenly there was blood on his lips and his face as an anomalous vessel he had failed to clamp sprayed him as he cut the uterus from the patient. The patient had lost so much blood already that the unclamped vessel was her end, and Carlisle watched her eyes fade.

"Apparently you are not praying hard enough, Angel of Death!" Moreau screamed.

Pierre found Carlisle sitting, still stained up to his elbows with the young woman's blood and leaning forward onto his knees in a hallway. "You all right, kid?" Pierre had never seen Carlisle looking so forlorn.

Carlisle looked away. "I'm really starting to question if this is what God means for me to do."

Pierre looked at Carlisle thoughtfully, "Come my friend, we are due at the _Léon_."

Alain was the only one to meet them that particular evening. "Tell me what the problem is, Monsieur Cullen. I've never seen you as cheerless and boring as you are this evening." Alain sipped his brandy and looked irritated.

Carlisle considered his words. "I am unable to find a place of peace when I am trying to focus during surgery."

Alain scoffed. "What am I, a priest? You are seeking advice?" Then he smirked as he lifted a brow. "You want something from me, I want something from you. Agreed?" Alain leaned forward.

Carlisle narrowed his eyes, but then he nodded.

Alain smiled. "Instead of finding your focus in peace, you must find your focus and the peace will follow. Simple, _n'est-ce pas_?"

"How do you expect him to simply 'find his focus'?" Pierre chuckled, amused by this entire exchange.

"That I cannot say. What causes you to lose your way?" Alain waved his hand at Carlisle.

Carlisle was tired and frustrated, and he wanted to know if Alain truly had some knowledge that he lacked. He decided honesty was the only way to get to the problem. "Overwhelming desire."

Alain's eyes narrowed. "Desire for what?"

Carlisle looked directly into Alain's gaze. "Blood."

For the first time since they had met, Alain was speechless. Pierre's eyes were wide. Carlisle looked at each of them in turn, holding their gaze with all of his magnetic powers. He used his mesmerizing voice. "I had a teacher who showed me that continued exposure to what I desire most diminishes that desire, and it worked. But there is one more step I am missing. I can follow his method perfectly, but I still fail to conquer my desires, the pain causes me to make mistakes, and I lose patients."

"It is you, Monsieur," Alain said without any pretension in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Carlisle was becoming impatient.

"Whatever is driving you toward this goal, you must let it go. You are getting in your own way. Instead, your attention must be on your task and your patient. When you stop making your surgery about overcoming your problems and instead focus on repairing a laceration, or on saving a man's life so he can see his children, then you will succeed."

Carlisle was shocked. He was concentrating only on overcoming being a vampire. Instead, he needed to reconnect with his humanity. After all, was that not what Carlisle had been trying to do since the day he was bitten?

"The light in your eyes just changed, Monsieur." Carlisle realized Alain was now leaning forward as far as he could and still remain seated on his silk-covered chair across from Carlisle.

Carlisle knew he had opened a door to an extremely inquisitive human, and he was taking a risk that could quite possibly require him to move much sooner than he intended. Alain was exactly the minority Hawthorne had warned Carlisle about. But he didn't really care if he had to leave. This revelation was worth it.

"Now I want something from you," Alain looked directly into Carlisle's eyes and did not smile. "You can enchant a Duchesse and an entire room and even entice me to tell you exactly what you need to hear. I want to know if you have made some pact with the Devil for such beauty and power?" Alain was practically salivating as he voiced his long-held desire to command such control over others.

Carlisle had known for years that Alain did not want friendship from him. The desire for physical beauty Carlisle understood; the Duchesse had made it quite clear to him her desires. But Alain's obsession was entirely different. Carlisle realized how dangerously close he was. He had revealed his bloodlust, but he would not give Alain any more. "No, I made no deals. I never wanted this life. But I fear the Devil possesses me despite my best efforts."

Carlisle stood, paid for his still untouched brandy, and walked out of the club, leaving Pierre and Alain to stare at opposite corners of the café.


	8. Chapter 7: 1721

CHAPTER 7

~~1721~~

"Doctor Cullen? Doctor Cullen!!" The man with the lantern outside had seen him walking through the front parlor and was waving at him frantically.

Carlisle had heard the carriage approaching a mile away, and had timed his appearance to the moment the farmer would be running up the drive. He opened the small wooden door, which was low enough that he had to stoop slightly to step outside the country cottage.

"Please, sir! My daughter is ill!" Sweat dotted the farmer's brow as he stopped short of the impressively tall, pale man.

Carlisle inclined his head. "Of course, Herr Zimmer." Carlisle reached back inside and picked up his bag, which he always kept by the door.

Zimmer drove Carlisle under an enormous full moon to the small farmhouse just over two miles away through fields of aromatic barley.

"She just had a fever, but now my girl's not making sense, and she thrashes about!"

Carlisle's sat in silence and listened calmly to Zimmer's worried chatter. Zimmer's wife had died the previous spring of a cough and fever, so it was no wonder he was sensitive about his daughter's temperature.

They arrived and Carlisle vaulted out of the carriage. Zimmer brought Carlisle into the girl's bedroom where he found her listless and burning with fever in the arms of their older housemaid. When he moved her head her legs flexed. Carlisle probed the girl's neck and could feel the swelling at the base of the skull. "Herr Zimmer, your daughter is gravely ill. If I do nothing she will die."

Zimmer's lip trembled, but his eyes were hard. "Please, doctor, she is all I have left," he whispered.

Carlisle looked at Zimmer with deep compassion. "It is very likely she will still die, no matter what I do."

Zimmer nodded. "What do you need?"

"You both must leave the house. If you have the constitution to hear her scream you may stay within earshot; if not, come back tomorrow at sunset." Carlisle spoke without looking at them and continued to probe her neck, noting her responses to noxious stimuli.

Zimmer sighed and laid a gentle hand on his daughter's hair. "I love you, _liebchen_."

They left with a few belongings to go to the farm five miles down the lane. Within minutes Carlisle had his instruments out and the girl laid on the kitchen table on a sheet. There was no one within miles so Carlisle's hands moved faster than human sight. The cut-down took less than fifteen seconds. She barely acknowledged the pain. Then he waited over an hour as the pus drained from the base of her skull into the plate he slid beneath her neck and chin. When the drainage had stopped she was beginning to move around a little more, so he quickly closed and cleaned his incisions. All he could do at that point was wait. But as he carefully laid her on her back and wrapped a blanket around her to prevent her from moving too much and pulling out his stitches, he noticed a Bible on one of the kitchen table chairs. He could not help himself; he silently prayed for the girl's safety without even thinking about it.

As he opened his eyes after the prayer, they were widened with disbelief. He had not prayed in decades. Why now? Why for this little girl? Carlisle quickly stood up and stared at her tiny unmoving form for a moment, and then turned away to busy himself finishing the cleanup after the surgery.

Around four in the afternoon Carlisle heard the girl stirring in the next room. He went to her and found her blinking in the sunlight. He moved closer to her and smiled down at her.

She lifted a hand and touched his sparkling face and smiled. "Shiny… smooth," she whispered. Carlisle looked down at her tiny face framed by brown curls and wide blue eyes. For the first time in a very long time he laughed.

When Zimmer returned at sundown, Carlisle was feeding the little girl chicken broth. The farmer fell to his knees and wept on his daughter's dressing gown. Zimmer drove Carlisle home before daybreak. "She said you shine like an angel." He laughed at his daughter's silly hallucination as he stopped at Carlisle's cottage.

Carlisle gave the farmer a half smile. "She will recover her faculties in time. She must not exert herself with her chores for at least a month." Carlisle jumped down from the carriage and retrieved his bag.

Zimmer nodded. "Thank you, doctor. You _are_ an angel to our family." He drove away, and Carlisle waved at him before retreating from the rising sun.

For thirty years Carlisle had kept to the countryside. He had left Paris without preamble or explanation. He smiled to himself when he thought of Moreau grousing over finding a new assistant. Carlisle had decided to let go of his dream of being a surgeon while he reconnected with his humanity. He became a country physic, working with small communities for short periods of time and focusing on his patients. He would appear when a village needed his services, live on the very edge of the town, and leave before anyone began to question his strange ways and the fact that he never went out in direct sunlight. He had shifted toward a more nomadic existence. Carlisle found it alternately satisfying and secure but also crushingly isolating.

Three days later Carlisle decided to pay the little girl an evening house visit. He drove up in his small, one-horse carriage and saw that there was a fire in the hearth, but he did not hear or smell any of the family. He decided to investigate because he was worried that the small girl should not be traveling so soon.

Carlisle walked up the wooden steps to the house porch and looked in the windows. Nothing looked disturbed. He entered the house to investigate because he was absolutely certain that the family was nowhere in the area.

The kitchen hearth was in fact slowly burning down to coals, and had not been fed for some time. There was a pot full of dinner stew hanging over the dying fire. There was no recent evidence of the father, but he should have been indoors already because at dusk the workers went home. The girl's bed upstairs was still warm. As he bent over the pillow he suddenly caught a shadow of a scent that he never expected to find: _vampires_.

In an instant he put together the entire scenario. Nomad vampires had probably happened upon the father as he returned from the fields. Then, they surmised where he was heading and quickly dispatched the housekeeper and daughter. Carlisle's vision in his head of the death of the little girl at the hands of a vampire detonated an explosion of rage he had never felt before. Now that Carlisle knew what he was looking for, he flew down the stairs searching for the vampire scent, and he found it in the kitchen and at the dining room table. They had been in the house when Carlisle approached in his carriage.

Just as Carlisle stood up, he heard their return. He straightened his spine and smoothed his silk jacket. It took every ounce of his control not to attack the two vampires as the male and female walked calmly into the kitchen. When they looked at Carlisle, however, they blinked and looked at each other as if they had seen something unexpected. After a moment of silence the female looked back at Carlisle and spoke.

"We detected you on the child's clothes. She was the last, and we did not know you were first in the territory until then. We extend our sincere apologies." The female spoke with authority, but she was authentically gracious.

Carlisle was completely caught off -guard. He had never encountered a female who spoke before a male companion. But overwhelming everything was his barely controlled fury at the death of the family. His anger was so palpable that the male glanced at the female and then stepped forward.

"I can see we've upset you, sir. But if you were here before, why did you not take the family then?" His manner was placid and rational.

Carlisle looked at the male and was elated to realize that these were likely the first _civilized_ vampires that he had ever encountered, and then he was completely dismayed they had misunderstood his anger as a territorial dispute. Carlisle regarded both of them sternly. "I was here to _save_ her life."

Both vampires blinked again and the female looked to the male, and the male nodded at her. Then with a lifted brow she turned back to Carlisle. "And why would you save her life?"

Carlisle lifted his bag and set it on the table. "Because I am a healer."

Again the female looked to the male who nodded then she turned back to Carlisle. "Our kind have posed as healers throughout history and taken the weak and the ill. Why would you not do the same?"

Carlisle's eyes narrowed and he replied through clenched teeth, "I do not feed on humans."

This time both vampires shifted their weight slightly back as Carlisle spoke. When the male nodded at the female she stared at her companion for several seconds. Then she took a step forward with both hands outstretched. "I am Makenna. This is Charles." She was small and had long, dark hair; Charles had short, maize-colored hair and was taller than Makenna, but still nearly a foot shorter than Carlisle. They both wore common clothing, and had bare feet.

"Please accept our sincere apologies. We never thought we would give this kind of offense." Charles's voice was placating.

Carlisle made no move to close the space between them or to complete the introduction. "Where did you come from?" he asked curtly.

"East," Makenna said simply.

"Where did you come from?" Charles asked cordially.

"West," Carlisle said plainly.

Charles smiled at this. "We would like to hear more about you. Please. We have never met an animal-feeder before. There are only vague legends, and the Volturi are not a library of open information."

These two strangers did not realize it, but the word _information_ changed Carlisle's entire perspective on the conversation. And the way the name _Volturi_ fell with such weight also caught his attention. Against his personal feelings, he judged that he desperately needed to at least have this discussion and to learn as much as he could from the visitors. And he had to accept that they had murdered the farmer, the housekeeper, and the little girl out of a natural instinct with which he was only too familiar. If he was going to survive as a vampire, he had to learn how to be around vampires.

Carlisle's face remained stern. "While you are in this village you will not show yourselves, and you will not feed on any more of the residents."

Charles glanced at Makenna, and then he nodded at Carlisle. Carlisle was still frowning, but he nodded to them. "My name is Carlisle. Follow me."

The visitors seemed impressed not only by Carlisle's dress and demeanor but also by his carriage which was light and fast. When they arrived at his cottage they were again surprised.

"Why do you have a permanent residence?" Makenna said inquisitively as they walked inside.

"I try to stay in one place for as long as possible." Carlisle explained as he removed his jacket and solitaire, loosening his shirt collar. Carlisle turned his head and Charles's eyes widened.

"My God, you were _mauled_, weren't you?"

Carlisle looked back at Charles and his brows came together. "What do you mean?"

Charles shook his head. "He must have been a complete animal. I don't know how you survived." Charles pointed to Carlisle's neck. "Your scar – it looks like he tore out half of your neck. You must have been a very strong human."

Carlisle stared at Charles as his hand unconsciously moved to the network of slightly raised lines where his wound had healed many, many years before. He had absently traced the lines on his neck with his fingers thousands of times while he was deep in thought. It never occurred to him that others could see it, and no one had mentioned it, except this vampire.

Carlisle suddenly felt terribly self-conscious and vulnerable because he was unable to banish his memory of the attack at that moment, and he pulled his collar tighter. Carlisle never looked at himself in a mirror. He didn't need to look at himself to dress, and his hair did not grow and body never changed so he did not even need a mirror to shave. He didn't want to admit it, but he was also afraid to look in a mirror because he preferred to remember how he looked as a human, even though he knew that his skin was pale, and Hawthorne had observed that his eyes changed color depending on length of time since his last feeding. He knew how humans perceived him, and though he looked slightly unnatural to them, they still saw him as one of them.

Charles noticed Carlisle's confusion and pulled up his sleeves to reveal several brightly shining half-moon bite marks. Carlisle was surprised at how vivid they were, and now understood how his scars must appear to other vampires. His neck must look like a ragged, radiant web of healed venom wounds.

"You were bitten more than once?" Carlisle said to Charles.

Charles shook his head. "No, this was my transformation wound." He pointed to one wound among dozens. "The rest are from battle."

Carlisle lifted his brows as Charles chuckled.

Carlisle heard his opponent's approach and turned, anticipating his strike angle. He moved low, just as his opponent came down upon him from above. With his center of gravity closer to the ground, he easily struck at his opponent's legs and brought him down, pinning him. Carlisle looked into Charles's eyes and he felt a strange thrill in his chest as he realized looking at Charles's surprised expression that he had won on the second try. He instantly released Charles, who stood up quickly. Charles looked over Carlisle's fairly impressive six-foot build. "You are not the fastest I have seen, but you have good strength and incredible anticipation." His brow creased. "Do you hear thoughts?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No, I just know a little about you, and that reveals how you might attack."

Charles nodded. "Very good; use that instinct. It seems your natural empathy allows you to size up opponents as well as friends," Charles smiled. "Your mild manner betrays you. You will be even better at avoiding fights, but I would take you into battle."

Makenna smirked. "That is a significant compliment, Carlisle; take it to heart."

Carlisle never wanted to think of himself as a warrior. His early exposure to violence had made it completely distasteful to him. But he had to admit this new world was even more violent than the mortal world he had left behind. He was not a fool, and he would not be taken by anyone. "Where are all of these battles? I have seen nothing of them in my time." Carlisle was terribly curious about what they were not telling him.

Makenna and Charles exchanged glances, and then Makenna spoke. "Carlisle, are we the first vampires you have encountered?" Carlisle nodded. "How long have you been alone?"

Carlisle's mind drifted back through time. "Over fifty years."

"War is all vampires know," Charles looked at him with intensity. "The struggle for power is all they have left. Some of us participate; some of us try to make our own way and stay away from them. But if you've been living in Europe as long as you say, they know of you and probably are following your movements."

Carlisle's thoughts instantly drifted to the occasional feeling of being watched while he was working at the hospitals. He had assumed it was his own paranoia. He was slightly horrified to think that someone might have been methodically following him and had skills to prevent him from discovering them.

"Part of the reason why you never met any vampires in Paris is that the primary covens in France were destroyed," Charles said softly.

Carlisle's brows came together again. "Destroyed? By whom?"

"The Volturi." Makenna's eyes were suddenly bottomless pools of memory. They had seen unspeakable horrors and amazing displays of power. For the first time Carlisle could see her age by looking into her eyes. "The Volturi are the ruling coven. They maintain order." Carlisle could immediately discern that the rule of the Volturi was distasteful to her but that she respected them. "The Parisians amassed some… indiscretions. They were a bit too free with their lust and their venom. They danced on the edge of giving up the secret, and the Volturi decided to discipline them."

Carlisle shook his head. "How many were killed?"

Charles shrugged. "Dozens."

"People?" Carlisle gasped.

"Vampires," Charles corrected. "They were not all in one coven, which are rarely larger than two or three. It was the entire city and most of the northern countryside of France. Though they did not live together, they generally were all created by each other and behaved similarly. But even those who were more conservative did not escape." Charles clearly had lost someone, and the pain on Makenna's face said that she felt a similar sadness.

"But in Paris I saw humans that had been killed by vampires," Carlisle insisted. "I examined their bodies."

Charles shook his head. "Feral animals. If the Volturi find them, they are destroyed as well. I'm sure they tried to find them all, but they hide so deep you cannot see them. They are the worst danger in revealing the secret. The secret must be kept."

Carlisle's eyes narrowed. "What is this 'secret' you keep talking about?"

Makenna's strong voice responded. "It is the highest law, higher than the Volturi. We all respect it even if we do not respect them. The humans must not have proof that we exist. We are of the night and we stay in the dark."

Carlisle understood the importance of the law. His entire vampire existence had become centered around careful guarding of his secret, except with Hawthorne, Alain, and Pierre. He knew he had come too close to revealing his secret and that had caused the change in his lifestyle. Suddenly Carlisle realized how truly reckless he had been; and, if that was why he was being followed. "How long have the Volturi been enforcing the law?"

Makenna shrugged. "I was created eighty years ago, and my creator was over 200 years old. We have heard that it was over 1,200 years ago that the Volturi overthrew the Germanic covens. The Germanic vampires have tried several times to reclaim their domain, and they even succeeded in killing one of the Volturi wives. But the authority of Volterra remains unchallenged."

Carlisle was now intrigued. "How long were the Germanic covens in control?"

Charles shook his head. "Only those ancient covens have memories that goes back that far. Vampires as a rule do not live very far past two hundred – even less if they are routinely in battle. Life is violent, hard, and short, much as the humans. The best hope is to live as you have, and as we do; alone and wandering."

Carlisle felt somewhat disturbed by their austere perspective. He had really begun to feel a measure of peace in the past couple of decades as he worked to help small communities. He did have dark moments of loneliness, but the companionship he found in his human acquaintances did fill the void for brief moments in time. Carlisle wondered for the first time if he might find another like himself. A tiny ember of hope lit in his mind as he thought of finding a vampire who did not feed on humans so that he would be able to travel with someone, like Makenna and Charles did. "How many vampires are there?"

Makenna responded, "I have never seen so few. But human populations are still relatively low. Some areas only support two or three covens. My sire told me that after the Black Death, there are still areas where there are no humans for hundreds of miles. Some of us have had to feed on animals just to make it from one town to the next."

Carlisle smiled slightly at this statement, wondering if the act of desperation had led to some keeping the lifestyle, and his ember of hope burned brighter. Charles chuckled when he saw Carlisle smile. "Again, we mean no offense, but I must say that I do not understand how you can prefer animal blood to humans."

Carlisle looked at Charles. "I've never tasted the blood of a human."

Charles now looked intently at Carlisle. "You tell the truth." He shook his head. "How is that possible? When you were new, you never fed on humans?"

Carlisle shook his head. "I tried to destroy myself to stop myself from feeding on humans."

Charles stared at him again. "Again, you tell the truth."

Carlisle's brows furrowed. "How do you know that?"

Charles frowned. "Some of us carry with us abilities from our human lives. Our gifts are often amplified when we are changed. When I was a child I knew instantly when anyone was lying to me. I knew the vampire I met was lying to me when he said he was there to welcome my family to the village we had settled in." Carlisle set his jaw, thinking of his own attack. Charles looked at Carlisle with wide eyes. "You must have carried with you an intense empathy for human life when you were transformed, or some kind of self-control bordering on self-sacrifice that few have even as humans."

Carlisle immediately thought of Arthur, and was pulled back to a long-buried memory. Arthur was driving Carlisle home the morning after the Reverend beat him for saving the mentally disturbed child from being imprisoned for being possessed. Every bump in the cobbled road jostled his broken ribs, and Carlisle could not prevent himself from gasping from the pain.

"_Carlisle, your compassion for the innocent borders on self-sacrifice," _Arthur had said through gritted teeth.

"_Compassion is what separates us from the darkness. Sacrifice may be what God calls us to give. I will give whatever He asks for."_

Two weeks after their initial meeting Carlisle walked alone through the barley fields once owned by the farmer killed by the vampires. The town had discovered the family was missing only three days after their deaths, and they questioned Carlisle about them. He told the villagers about saving the daughter but claimed he had not seen or heard of them since. Charles and Makenna sat upstairs in his bedroom silently as he handled the situation.

Their three-way conversation had continued night and day for the entire two weeks. Carlisle had learned more in that time than he had ever dreamed he might. Makenna even taught him some basics of vampire healing. In her traumatic past she had learned from others and had healed many vampires after a local territory dispute. The Volturi arrived when the dispute did not end and the vampires she had healed were all killed. Carlisle discussed with her what was strong enough to penetrate the skin of vampires, the effects of their venom on other vampires, killing with fire, and the effects of dismemberment and reassembling limbs. He took two books of notes.

In the end, Charles finally had to admit to Carlisle that his thirst was reaching a point where he feared to stay any longer in Carlisle's village, lest he feed again on one of Carlisle's neighbors. Carlisle was gratified that Charles and Makenna respected him enough to leave when they had to. They did not, however, invite him to join them. Carlisle knew that he would not have wanted to keep company with vampires who regularly fed on humans, but as they moved on he could not help but feel dismayed. He wandered slowly through the barley fields under a carpet of stars. He began to wonder if most of vampire existence was one of detached rootless drifting and loneliness. He wanted to know if anyone had found a better way.

They had parted amicably, but not exactly as friends. Charles seemed to feel confident in his read on Carlisle's sincerity, but Makenna had made a comment about how Carlisle's inquisitiveness and odd lifestyle reminded her of the Volturi. Carlisle was concerned about their stories about the Volturi and about Charles's parting warning.

"Carlisle, you lived in Paris. Be certain that even if you are not being watched right now, they will be coming for you eventually. You are a unique vampire. You have a strange power that I cannot fully understand. It seems to emanate from you…" Charles stared at Carlisle for a moment before he continued. "Don't let Aro get his hands on you. And be aware that very few of the vampires he has collected have ever left him and lived very long. Be careful."

Carlisle was passing a dead tree, and in an instant he circled the tree faster than human sight and sank his teeth into the bark, and then pulverized the weak wood with a sweeping strike from his fist. When he landed on the ground he inspected what he had done. The tree was splintered into thousands of pieces. Carlisle looked down at his hands and wiped off the dust from the tree. He practiced over and over through the following months. He was thoroughly distressed to find out what an effective fighter he was. But he knew that if he was to survive, he had to be prepared for his first contact with the Volturi.


	9. Chapter 8: 1752

CHAPTER 8

~~1751~~

Carlisle's frigid fingers flowed over the strings of the violin as if they were a warm current of water. The melody he played was slow, in a minor key, and expressed a depth of sadness inside him that he did not often touch. The music floated to the highest rafters of the small stone church lit by candlelight. The second movement was more proactive and commanding, but the final movement returned to an uneasy contemplation of the future. Carlisle's brow was creased as he drew out the final note with his bow. The candles flickered as a breeze flowed through the church, causing the light to dance off the colored stained-glass windows.

The audience of one clapped vigorously as he walked toward Carlisle. "You really ought to go into Vienna, Mister Cullen. The masters need to hear you play, and you need their instruction. You can surely pay for your learning…"

"Father Auer, my constitution keeps me indoors; the masters work only sunup to sundown." Carlisle responded as he cleaned his instrument.

Father Auer smiled warmly. "Mister Cullen, if you would agree to it I will speak with Herr Koller; he was a _luthier_ in Vienna until a few years ago, and he shares your passion for music. You have been a strong benefactor of our little church since your arrival. It is the least I can do, for I can feel your desire to be closer to God through your music."

Carlisle frowned. Father Auer had always been far too kind to him. Carlisle had arrived in Austria nearly ten years before, traveling as he always did from village to village. One night as he was driving though one of the villages in the outlying fields around the walls of Vienna, he had stopped a band of thieves from stealing the iconography from Father Auer's church. He had tended the priest's minor wounds, but when he tried to leave, the Father would not hear of it. Carlisle had rich clothing and expensive possessions like trunks of books and scientific instruments. The Father could see that he was a potential patron that he should not let slip away.

Father Auer insisted upon seeing Carlisle at the evening mass when Carlisle protested that he had a skin condition that kept him indoors and out of the sun. And despite Carlisle's shy and withdrawn nature, the Father introduced him to the church elders and heaped praise upon him to any of his parishioners who would listen. When he stopped by Carlisle's new residence and happened to hear him playing, he encouraged him to play his violin during the services. Carlisle had drawn the line at the idea of putting himself on public display, but he had agreed to play for the Father in private.

Carlisle had picked up the violin after helping a man who had reminded him intensely of Hawthorne. He was an older man who had fallen on hard times due to his drinking. But he owned a treasured violin and would not explain where it had come from. Seeing Carlisle's interest he expertly instructed him, and within two years Carlisle was composing his own music. When Carlisle decided it was time to leave that community several years later, the old man had given him the violin.

Carlisle had actually studied music since then in Germany as well as Salzburg. He had to admit that learning the instrument had opened up his emotions more than he had expected and that it both intrigued him and frightened him. But his nearly 100 years of life had taught him not to shy completely away from things that frightened him. Carlisle finally looked back at Father Auer and nodded.

Father Auer smiled, "Wonderful! I will introduce you to Herr Koller tomorrow. He had a student who left for Nürnberg, and I think he needs a new student." He grinned. Then he sighed, "I'm afraid I must dedicate the remainder of my evening to tomorrow's morning service, but you are welcome to practice in the sanctuary for as long as you wish."

Carlisle picked up his case. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, Father."

Father Auer regarded Carlisle's expression and saw that the sadness in his music had lingered beyond the end of the performance. "What melancholy could haunt so young a man?"

Carlisle appraised the Father, and for the first time saw no hint of a self-serving agenda. He appeared to be genuinely concerned for Carlisle's spiritual health. Carlisle had avoided engaging the Father on spiritual topics for months, and though he knew this conversation was inevitable, he still was not ready.

"Father, I appreciate your pastoral concern, but I would like to wait until another time to discuss my spiritual crisis." Carlisle spoke quietly and looked sincerely at the priest.

Father Auer nodded, though he looked intrigued. "Another time then. Good evening, Mister Cullen."

"Good evening, Father." Carlisle collected his hat and cloak and walked out of the modest country church with his violin case tucked under his arm.

After the sermon the following evening Father Auer walked over to him and brought with him a stern-looking older gentleman. "Mister Cullen, this is Herr Koller. I have told him of your gifts, and he has agreed to hear you play."

Carlisle nodded to Koller "I thank you for your generosity, sir. I'm afraid I have a condition that dictates that I can go out only in the evenings. Will that inconvenience you?"

Herr Koller was over six inches shorter than Carlisle and lifted his chin to speak to him. "Not if you can play by candlelight." Herr Koller was a little rough around the edges but not exactly impolite. Carlisle sensed that it was a defense mechanism, not his real nature, and nodded amiably.

Two evenings later, Carlisle arrived at the home of Herr Koller. When Koller opened the front door and saw that Carlisle nearly filled the doorframe he cleared his throat and stepped aside. "Please come in, young man."

Carlisle walked in and deposited his hat and cloak in the modest foyer. The house was small, but Carlisle noted that there were some fine fabrics on the chair cushions and elaborate carving on one of the tables. When they walked into the small parlor there were instruments everywhere: every string instrument, a harpsichord, and several wind instruments as well. Carlisle now began to wonder about Koller because the house appeared to imply that the furnishings had come from another residence. Carlisle put these thoughts aside, knowing too well that people who asked too many questions were often trouble.

Koller sat down in a cushioned chair by the fire and settled himself. Then he looked up at Carlisle expectantly. Carlisle had not been invited to sit, so he stood still waiting to be instructed. Koller sighed. "Go on, then; let me hear you."

Carlisle quickly laid his case on a nearby chaise and opened it so he could retrieve his violin. After a few quick adjustments, he set the bow to the strings. He played the same piece he had performed for Father Auer. After the first movement, Carlisle could hear that the three other humans in the house whom he surmised to be servants had all stopped their activities and were sitting still and listening. By the end of the second movement they had all moved to the top of the stairs, and by the end of the third movement one of them, a female, was weeping softly. Carlisle had become so preoccupied with the other humans in the house he almost forgot he was performing for Koller.

Koller sat in his chair frowning and smoothing his thin gray hair as Carlisle stood very still before him with the violin once again tucked under his arm. Then both men heard an audible sniff from the top of the stairs. Carlisle's eye shifted slightly, but Koller looked up and then cleared his throat again. "Mister Cullen, for it is _mister_ not Herr, is it not?" Carlisle bowed slightly, ignoring the disapproval in Koller's voice. "You are too old to begin training for a career in music; you are too wealthy to be seeking another income; you are not talented enough to be seeking a position as a master. May I ask what you seek from me?"

Carlisle smiled slightly at this. "Herr Koller, I am twenty and I am seeking only to learn more appreciation of music."

Koller lifted a brow. "So, you have not come here to seek an audience with my daughter?"

Carlisle's eyes widened, "No, sir! Absolutely not!" Carlisle now understood who was crying at the top of the steps. And then he realized what had happened. "Father Auer…" He sighed.

Slowly a slight smile spread across Herr Koller's face. Then he started to chuckle. Then seeing how uncomfortable Carlisle was he began to laugh out loud. "Oh, my boy, we have both been tricked." He laughed even louder. Carlisle shifted uneasily, but managed a nervous chuckle. Koller stood up and clapped Carlisle on the shoulder. "Come back tomorrow evening, Mister Cullen. We will begin with Mozart."

They played together, often for hours, Koller had great prowess with the viola, violin cello, and the violin. They played duets and filled the fields surrounding the village with music.

Father Auer conveniently avoided speaking directly to either of them for over a week, no doubt to avoid any reprimand, and merely smiled a little smugly at each of them. Carlisle surmised that he had seen both men in pain and in need of friendship. And the fact that Carlisle was a young man and that Herr Koller had a daughter of marrying age no doubt appeared to Father Auer to be an additional benefit. Carlisle wondered how Father Auer found time to write his homilies between all of his benevolent scheming.

The news of the new friendship quickly spread and Carlisle found himself at the center of more gossip than he wished. This tiny community situated just outside the wall of Vienna was isolated enough that he was not terribly concerned. The villagers had taken to calling him "the albino physic," and he was comfortable enough with that title. They assumed that he occupied his time with science and experiments because of what Father Auer had told them of his books and equipment. He really only practiced medicine when someone brought a problem to him because there were two other healers in the area. But with the discovery of Carlisle's musical prowess, they now began to wonder how so cultured a man had chosen to live among them.

One evening Koller poured them both a glass of wine and glanced out the window. "Hmm, it seems that more young women are taking their evening strolls by my home to hear you play."

Carlisle sighed, "Father Auer seems to be undeterred."

Koller chuckled and sipped his wine as he handed a glass to Carlisle. "You are an unmarried man of means. Do you not wish to settle down? Have a family?"

Carlisle looked up at Koller. He had not expected such direct questions. "I have means, but no home, and no other family. That is not much to offer to a marriage."

Koller gave Carlisle a knowing smile. "And what of love?"

Carlisle frowned. "I… have never known real love."

Koller's brows lifted. "Never been in love? Or never been loved?"

Carlisle looked over at Koller and put down his untouched wine. "My mother died when I was born, and my father hated me. I had a teacher who loved me like a father, but mostly he loved the idea of his perfect pupil." Carlisle looked down at Hawthorne's ring on his finger. "I have never felt unconditional love."

Koller looked at Carlisle with compassion. "You hold people at a distance, Carlisle. You cannot get close to anyone if you always live like that." Carlisle looked up at Koller and smiled, but did not respond. "Father Auer saw in both of us men who have been damaged: you by your family and me… by my student."

Carlisle nodded. "What happened with your student?"

Koller took another drink and sighed. "He was my best friend's son, and he was like my son. I taught him everything I knew about crafting the finest instruments; I taught him formally from the age of twelve. He was there when my daughter was born and when my wife died a few years later." Carlisle stood still listening intently as Koller's eyes were filled with memory and hurt.

"Over the years he became more overbearing and eventually he began to ask for a share in my business. I was saving for my daughter's dowry, and I had no idea she was already love with him. They began a secret romance even though she was only twelve and he was twenty-four. Finally, he demanded an equal partnership and revealed their romance, threatening to elope with her if I refused. I had to protect her, and I knew then that he was not an honorable man. He left, and he denounced their engagement." Koller's baritone voice became tight. "My daughter fell into a deep melancholy, and she required constant supervision for six months to prevent her from harming herself. She was nearly catatonic when we moved out of the city." Then he looked back at Carlisle. "When you played for me the other evening, it was the first time she had cried in almost two years."

Carlisle blinked. He had been listening so intently he had forgotten some of his human affectations. He knew that Koller's daughter was sitting in her rooms upstairs listening to them play earlier, and she had not moved. He could not tell if she knew that her father was relating her sad story.

Koller looked into his glass. "I am grateful that we are friends, Mister Cullen. I believe that our music has brought some life back into my home."

Carlisle felt a slight smile at the corners of his mouth. "I have been lost for a long time. I think being here has brought me to a better place in my life as well."

Koller smiled. "What are your plans for Christmas, young man?"

Carlisle shrugged. "I hadn't really thought about it, sir."

Koller laughed. "Would you consider escorting me and my daughter to the Christmas Eve ball?"

Carlisle was completely speechless, and his jaw hung slightly open as Koller smiled at him. "Of… of course, sir; it would be an honor."

Carlisle left the Koller home soon after that and went directly to the church and pounded on the parsonage door.

Father Auer opened the door holding his reading candle and was instantly alarmed. He had never seen Carlisle even the slightest bit disturbed. "What is it Mister Cullen? What's happened?"

"Koller has asked me to escort him and his daughter to the Christmas ball!" Carlisle whispered harshly.

Father's face was frozen in shock for several seconds, and then his mouth turned up and he began to chuckle. Carlisle was completely dumbstruck, and all he could do was shake his head, waiting for the appropriate awe and fear to take hold.

"Mister Cullen, what is the problem? Is this not what you wanted?" Father Auer said reached out to him but Carlisle moved out of his reach and stared at Father Auer.

The answer in Carlisle's mind was, _NO!_ But he could not deny there was a tension in his throat, and his cold heart was saying, _YES!_ Carlisle's friendships had always been complicated, and most of his friends were work-related. He had never thought about becoming part of a family. He now knew that was what Herr Koller intended. Carlisle had no idea how he would react to Koller's daughter, but this was clearly the way a parent chose prospective partners for their children. That prospect however, brought Carlisle to his impasse.

Carlisle looked directly into Father Auer's face, and with as much vehemence as he could conjure he said desperately, "I am not a full man! I _cannot_ be Fräulein Koller's husband!"

Father Auer was again astonished by the passion in Carlisle's face and voice. "Mister Cullen, you are a man made in the image of God just like any…"

"GOD DOES NOT KNOW ME! I AM NOT OF GOD'S CREATION! I AM DAMNED TO A LIFE OF THE NIGHT!! I AM DAMNED!!" Carlisle's throat closed up, and his breath hitched in what sounded like a sob. Carlisle turned away so Father Auer would not see that he had no tears.

Father Auer was silent behind him for several seconds while Carlisle regained control. Then Carlisle felt a hand on his shoulder. "Please, son, come inside and let us talk. I think it is time for you to lay your burden before God. He knows you, no matter how far into the darkness you may think you have fallen."

Carlisle looked to the ground and then turned and allowed Father Auer's hand to guide him inside the warm parsonage.

Carlisle arrived at Christmas Eve mass and sat in his usual isolated front-row seat among the gentry. Koller arrived after him and sat in one of the few open seats on the opposite side of the altar. The services were particularly full at this time of year, and spirits were high because after mass everyone would dress for the dinner and ball.

Carlisle listened to the Father's homily and heard him discuss many of the points they had debated in their recent discussions. He was talking about Jacob at the River Jabbok. Carlisle had tried to convince the priest that he was a damned creature, that every instinct he had was to do evil, and that anger consumed him when he did not consciously control it. Father Auer had responded quietly, "I do not know what dark past you are fighting, but all of us are fallen creatures. We are made in God's image, but we are separate from God until we accept our salvation."

Carlisle shook his head, "But how can one created by evil accept salvation from God?"

Father Auer gave Carlisle a hard look. "You actually believe you were created by the Devil?"

Carlisle met Father Auer's eyes, "If you knew where I came from, you would understand."

Father Auer regarded him closely. Carlisle would never know the depth of pain the priest saw in his eyes. Father Auer also could see more age than he perceived possible. But he still only saw Carlisle as the generous man who he had always admired, but now he was also a lost soul like everyone else, and he was glad he could finally give something back to Carlisle. "I will pray about these matters, my son. But know this: I have never seen a man walk so closely with God yet claim that he is from hell."

Carlisle's mind returned to the present and he listened vaguely to the homily and wondered if he was like Jacob. Was he thinking he was wrestling the devil but was actually wrestling with God? Was he wrestling with God unnecessarily?

Then Father Auer raised his voice, "A man once said to me that he was afraid that because his instincts were to do the opposite of God's commands, he feared he was a servant of the Devil. But I had never met a more compassionate, disciplined, and strong-willed man. Servants of the Devil have no will, no resistance, and no compassion." There were nods of agreement. "He thought he must have been created by the Devil!" There were some gasps in the audience, and Carlisle had to work to keep his face completely devoid of emotion. "But I say to you, all of creation is _only_ made by God. The Devil cannot create life! The Devil can only trick you; he can never own you." Carlisle stared at Father Auer. Father Auer looked toward him and smiled. "We can wrestle with God on these points all we wish, but our souls belong only to God; no other has claim."

Carlisle looked away from Father Auer's kind eyes, and tried to compose himself. He had not come close to the kind of emotion he was experiencing in decades. It had been nearly eighty years since his transformation. He had never doubted the existence of God, but he had not sat in a sanctuary of God and considered that he might actually belong there for just as long. For the first time since he was changed he was certain that God was speaking to him.

Carlisle put his hands together and looked up at the crucifix above the altar. He thought of the large cross hidden under his bed in his rented house, the one that still carried the stains of his own blood. "'I am not worthy of the least of all these mercies, and of all the truth which thou hast shewed unto thy servant…'"

That evening Carlisle stood still as a statue in the corner observing the scene and trying to be invisible. As a six-foot tall, blonde-haired, amber-eyed vampire who smells as attractive as he looks he did not succeed in avoiding attention. The ladies were done up in their Christmas finest, and they whispered constantly about him. Then Carlisle saw from the corner of his eye Koller's carriage arriving. He quickly crossed the room and moved outside to greet his friend. Koller exited the carriage and smiled at Carlisle; then he extended a hand to someone else inside. A tiny, gloved hand took Koller's, and then a young woman of no more than seventeen or eighteen stepped out of the carriage onto the gravel of the driveway. She wore an ice-blue dress that matched the blue in her eyes and had long ringlets of chocolate brown hair. Carlisle knew immediately from her smell that she was the one who had cried the first time she heard him play.

They approached Carlisle, and he bowed to Koller first. "Mister Cullen, may I present my daughter, Fräulein Koller."

Carlisle bowed to her. "Good evening; it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Fräulein."

"The pleasure is mine, Mister Cullen." She tripped slightly over the word "mister" but pronounced his name perfectly.

Carlisle was immediately uncomfortable around her because her beauty overwhelmed him, and he could not escape how intently she was looking at him.

Koller chuckled again at the obvious connection between the two young people. "Mister Cullen, please escort us inside, I think we should find some refreshment."

Carlisle had to tear his eyes away from Koller's daughter and bowed. "Please, sir, this way." Koller kept his daughter on his arm, and Carlisle walked on the other side.

Father Auer watched with satisfaction as midway through the evening Carlisle took Fräulein Koller's gloved hand in his and they had their first dance. In fact, the priest was not the only one to notice. By morning, the entire village was talking about it.

The following week Koller's daughter began joining Carlisle and her father in the parlor when they played in the evenings. Carlisle spent the New Year with the family.

In late February Carlisle was driving through the harsh cold to bring Koller and his daughter some firewood, when his head turned toward a scent that he had not detected in twenty years but knew instantly. He stopped the carriage and jumped out, dropping immediately into a defensive crouch. He could not smell any humans nearby that were in danger. He turned his head again and knew the stranger was headed away from him and probably had not caught his scent. Carlisle vaulted into his carriage and whipped his horse.

Carlisle arrived at the Koller home in a state of near panic as he rushed inside the kitchen door and deposited the wood. Koller's daughter came in to greet him, but when she saw his face she reached out to him and grasped his arm.

"Mister Cullen, what is wrong?" Her large blue eyes were wide with worry.

Carlisle gently brushed his gloved hand along her jawline. She looked up at him and closed her eyes as he caressed her face. Then he dropped his hand, and she opened her eyes. "I need to speak with your father immediately."

She led him into the parlor where Koller was blotting a sheet of music. "Mister Cullen, back so soon?" He smiled to himself before he looked up. When he saw the frown on Carlisle's face he put down his quill and he turned to his daughter. "My dear, would you please excuse us?" She curtsied and then closed the sliding doors to the parlor behind her.

Carlisle stepped closer and whispered quickly. "Have there ever been any mysterious deaths or disappearances in this area?"

Koller stood up and walked around his desk. "Mysterious? How?"

Carlisle shook his head, "Entire families vanished, unexplained illnesses, bloodletting – especially more than one…" Carlisle's voice ran out because Koller was nodding.

"Yes. Five years ago, right after we moved to this village. Six people, an entire family of four and two workers on the same farm all disappeared one night and were never seen again."

Carlisle closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Then he strode over to the front window of the parlor and threw it open to the bone-chilling February air. Sheets of music flew around the room but Koller did not move. Carlisle took in a deep breath, and then he turned back to the man shivering behind him.

"The entire village is in danger. Whatever was here five years ago has returned. I must protect the village. Stay indoors with your daughter. Promise me you will not leave this house until I return!"

Koller was completely speechless. All he could do was nod stiffly in agreement. Carlisle closed the window and turned to rush out. When he slid open the parlor doors, Koller's daughter was standing there with tears streaming down her face. She threw her arms around Carlisle. Carlisle tensed slightly knowing that she must feel the hardness of his stony skin and the coldness of his body through his clothes; but she only held him tighter. She knew that there was something different about him and she didn't care. Carlisle hugged her back.

"Please," she whispered, "please, don't go."

Carlisle tilted his head down to her brown curls and kissed her warm head with his cold lips. "I promise, no harm will come to you or your father, but I must go _now_." He pulled her chin up so her liquid blue eyes looked up at him again. "Take care of your father. I will return when it is over."

Carlisle gently removed her arms from around his chest, and handed her to her father. Then he walked out the front door.

He took in another deep breath. There was more than one. They were moving east. Carlisle headed for the pitch-black fields and ran. His senses placed them at a house just a mile from his position, and he ran faster. He heard screams of terror. They were taunting their victims. Then he heard Father Auer.

"DEMONS BE GONE!!"

Carlisle ran inside the house, knocked one of the vampires across the room and into the wall, and grabbed the second one by the hair and pulled him down. The first vampire regained his footing and whipped around so that his claw-like nails raked down Carlisle's arm, tearing through his jacket into his stony flesh and leaving long, deep gouges. Carlisle roared in pain and flipped the second vampire around in a blur to knock down the first one again. Then he locked the second vampire into an iron hold. It had all happened so quickly a human could barely understand what occurred.

Carlisle held the second vampire while the first one regained his stance. "Stand down, or I will rip his head off," Carlisle growled.

"This is NOT your territory!!" the first vampire snarled.

"On the contrary, this village is defended by me. You would do well to leave and to warn any others who pass through here that they will meet with destruction if a single villager is harmed." Carlisle tightened his grip on the second vampire so that there was a quiet crack from somewhere on the vampire's body as its integrity was challenged by Carlisle's strength.

"Let's GO!" the second vampire yelped.

The first vampire growled and then stood up. Carlisle waited and then let the second vampire go. "LEAVE!" he commanded. The vampires gave him one more look and then disappeared out into the night. Carlisle listened and was satisfied they had left the area.

Carlisle then turned to see the extent of the damage. There were three living witnesses. The elderly matriarch whom Father Auer had come to visit had been killed. Carlisle cursed himself for the loss of that one life. The mother and daughter were cowering in a corner, covering their eyes and weeping. Father Auer was standing over them and staring in astonishment at Carlisle.

"They are gone," Carlisle said with authority. "Did they see anything?" Carlisle pointed toward the two women.

"No, no, they saw nothing." Father Auer said honestly. There was a tea service that had crashed to the ground when the women had walked in with Father Auer and found the vampires waiting for them. "They have not lifted their heads since we found the intruders." His eyes slipped to the long, bloodless gouges in Carlisle's upper arm, and he pointed. "You are hurt."

Carlisle quickly wrapped his neck scarf around the injury and interrupted him. "I need one final promise from you, Father," Carlisle said with a tone so ominous the priest recoiled slightly. "You must _never_ reveal what really happened here."

"Mister Cullen…" Father Auer whispered, but Carlisle's eyes told him that there was nothing he could say to prevent this parting. He sighed, and took one long look at Carlisle, and shook his head. "Even as you fought them I saw no resemblance between you and them."

"Father, you have done more for me than you will ever know," Carlisle smiled.

Father Auer smiled back. "Mister Cullen, you will be remembered as a savior of this village."

Carlisle shook his head. "It would be better if…"

"I will keep the secret. Go in peace, my son," Father Auer smiled again.

Carlisle nodded and ran out the door. For the first time he put his escape plan into action. He had always managed to leave before he outstayed his welcome, but this time was different. Though he left no concrete evidence there were too many witnesses to the strange events. He would not be able to withstand all of the questions and still live in peace in the small community. This way the people who he had been close to could at least distance themselves from him. After he loaded his carriage, he drove back to Koller's house and knocked on the front door.

"Koller! It's Mister Cullen!"

Koller came running up to the door, swung it wide open. Koller's daughter ran forward and embraced the man she worshipped.

"You are safe. The village is safe." Carlisle said with his nose in her brown hair.

"But you are still leaving," she whispered through tears.

"I must. Others may need my protection," he said with pain in his voice.

She lifted her head, and then she reached up and put both of her bare hands on his marble cheeks and pulled his cold forehead down to rest against hers. She never flinched from the icy chill on his hard skin and she closed her eyes. "You are meant for more than to stay here and protect one village." Then she pulled back slightly but kept her hands on his face, as she smoothed the creases in his granite brow and smiled. "Thank you."

Koller then cleared his throat and sniffed slightly. He was clearly not comfortable with saying good-bye. "Thank you, for everything." He put his hand on his daughter's shoulder, and she turned to smile at him.

Carlisle stepped back from them and reached outside the front door to retrieve what he brought with him. He handed Koller his violin, but Koller refused.

"Think of us, every time you play," Koller said with a slight quaver in his voice.

Carlisle nodded and then looked at both of them one last time. "Farewell."


	10. Chapter 9: 1770

CHAPTER 9

~~1770~~

Carlisle walked across the stone courtyard of the _Palazzo del Commendatore_ in Rome as the heat from the day rose up from the stones and evening spread across the sky. Pigeons flew overhead and cooed from the rooftops and the sounds of the street just outside the main entrance to the palazzo drifted towards Carlisle as he neared the archway.

Carlisle had been working evenings at the _Ospedale di Santo Spirito_ for six years, teaching classes to the physicians in training, and he had moved into a three-room apartment in the palazzo because the administrator of the hospital and Carlisle had strong mutual respect. The clock on the portico of the palazzo struck seven in the evening as he neared the front door of the chapel that split the _braccio vecchio_. He could hear the turmoil inside the hospital long before he stepped over the threshold.

For just a few moments, however, he ignored the noise around him, and he knelt before the altar, looking up at the octagonal chapel dome above him. "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and do not forget all his benefits – who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the Pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good as long as you live so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's."

Settling in Rome had been a deliberate choice. Carlisle had worked with the Knights of Santo Spirito before in more exotic locations and had heard that the church had been helping the poor in this hospital for centuries. Almost every pope had added to its facilities and resources. Additionally, a city that was so consumed with spirituality fed Carlisle's growth. He had never felt so at home.

Finally, Carlisle could no longer ignore what was happening around him. He lowered his eyes back to earth and then stood up and walked back toward the two hallways. He looked to the left down the hall into the west end of the _braccio vecchio_ and heard some nurses struggling with a trauma patient, doctors arguing about a diagnosis, and several patients taking their last breaths. To his right, however, past the east end of the _braccio vecchio_, he caught a strong new scent in the _braccio nuovo_. If he was right, there could be a serious problem brewing. Carlisle turned right without any further hesitation.

The closer he got, the more certain he was. There were all kinds of foul smells that swirled around Carlisle in the narrow hallways of the hospital, but when he entered the large main ward he knew that at least six patients among the dozens of beds were ill with a specific and virulent disease. Giuseppe, a young student of Carlisle's, ran up to him.

"Doctor Cullen! I just arrived but during the day we got four more patients." Guiseppe was tall and thin and Carlisle could always detect the scent of his girlfriend's perfume on his hair and clothes.

Carlisle walked over to the beds and began to examine the patients: two children, a young woman, and a thin, older man. "From the same area of the city?"

Giuseppe blinked, "I – I don't know, sir."

The patients were ranging in severity, all had evidence of a systemic infection, and one had dark urine. Carlisle turned back to Giuseppe. "Find out where they live. Compare them with the two from yesterday evening." Then he walked out of the ward and up the grand staircase toward the office of the Knight of Santo Spirito.

Carlisle went directly into the offices of the administrator of the hospital. The office, consistently a picture of controlled chaos, was filled with books and dust. Bright sunlight pierced the dim room from a circular window on the far wall. The Giovanni Brambilla sat bent over his desk and barely glanced at Carlisle when he entered.

"We may have a new crisis of Roman fever," Carlisle said urgently.

Brambilla looked over his glasses at Carlisle and his bushy eyebrows lifted. He was only in his fifties but his face had aged and his hair had grayed while he was head of the hospital. "You are certain?" he said calmly.

Carlisle nodded. "I have one of the students researching the place of residence of the six patients I am concerned about, looking for a common source."

Brambilla stood up slowly and stretched his knees before he walked over to his book stacks. He ran a finger over dozens of books and then finally pulled out one small volume. "This is by a physician called Ramazzini. You should read it. He recommends the use of chinchona bark in the treatment of Roman fever."

Carlisle took the book and looked back to at Brambilla. "I had not heard of this. Do we have any chinchona bark?"

Brambilla smiled. "The theory is fifty years old, but not popular. I knew a good friend of Ramazzini. I have kept a store of chinchona ever since." He sat back down. "Some of the apothecaries may also have some stock. Have your students look into it." He picked up his quill again and resumed writing.

"Thank you, sir," Carlisle turned to leave.

"Mister Cullen," Brambilla called after Carlisle without looking up, "I will cancel your lecture for this evening. Please take charge of this affair until you are satisfied that it is contained." Brambilla had a naturally serene personality but Carlisle also knew that he had complete faith that Carlisle would not rest until the crisis was over.

"Yes, sir," Carlisle said and walked back out. He spent the entire evening documenting the symptoms and progress of the six patients to confirm the diagnosis. Giuseppe found more chinchona bark and they immediately began treatment. Three of the six unconscious patients were alone, but they interviewed family members of the other three. All of the families were from different apartment buildings and obtained water from different fountains. There appeared to be no connection between the cases. When Carlisle left the following morning, he instructed Giuseppe to take more detailed histories on all of the patients about their recent activities.

The dim morning was overcast and a light fog muted sight and sound: but as Carlisle walked toward the front archway of the palazzo his unnaturally sensitive ears heard the soft mumbling.

"Don't know why… why am I pulled here? Who can help me here? I'm in the open… they'll find me… I can sense them… they are coming… _they_ are coming…"

Carlisle paused in shock. Not only was the whispering in English, but the speed of the whispers and the low pitch told him long before he caught the scent that it was a vampire. The only others he had heard speak that way were Charles and Makenna. Carlisle sensed paranoia, but not maleficence. The visitor was agitated and Carlisle decided he wanted to announce himself rather than scare him. "My friend, how can I aid you?" Carlisle whispered quickly in English.

The visitor stopped mumbling to himself, and now Carlisle heard him scrambling to stand up. Carlisle ran as quickly as he could while still appearing human and stopped just inside the entrance to the courtyard to catch the visitor. He hadn't needed to run. The visitor was unable to move quickly – he was missing a leg. He was also swaying unsteadily in a way Carlisle did not imagine was possible for an invulnerable and immortal vampire.

The visitor's face screwed up with rage under a curtain of chin-length, unkempt, dark hair and he pointed accusingly at Carlisle. "You speak English! ARE YOU ONE OF _THEM_?? YOU LOOK LIKE ONE OF _THEM_!!"

Carlisle put up his hands. "Friend, I do not know who you are referring to. Please, let me help you."

The visitor slowly lowered his finger, and his face relaxed only a little. "No… you don't _sound_ like one of _them_. But you _look_ like one of _them_…" Then he swayed again slightly. Carlisle thought he would catch himself, but then Carlisle saw that the visitor was missing not only his left leg but also his left arm. Carlisle moved swiftly to catch him before he fell.

Then Carlisle started to carry him toward his apartment but the visitor was waving his remaining arm toward the ground. "The blanket! The blanket!"

Carlisle reached down to grab the dirty pile of rags which the visitor seemed to treasure and found within it the dismembered arm and leg. Carlisle sighed with relief. "Well, my friend, I don't know what ability rules your senses, but now at least I understand why you were drawn to me." He looked directly into the visitor's eyes. "I can help you; I just need you to trust me."

The visitor's brow creased as he looked back at Carlisle's angelic face. "Trust?"

Carlisle could not help but smile, so he turned and picked up the arm and leg wrapped in the blanket and then carried his visitor inside the entrance of his section of the palazzo.

The wide stairs wound upward to the apartment level with a scrolled iron handrail. Carlisle hurried up to the main hallway, his light steps barely audible on the pink marble tiles. A row of windows on the left let in what little illumination was available that foggy morning, and on the right were the apartments. At the end of the hall Carlisle deftly swung open his door.

His apartment was relatively luxurious, consisting of three rooms: the main parlor, a kitchen hearth and bathing room to the left of the front door, and a bedroom to the right. Each room had large windows that faced the street, but because Carlisle had a corner apartment the bedroom also had a private balcony that faced a narrow alley and had a lofty view of the city.

Carlisle deposited his visitor on a silk couch in the parlor and went to his locked cabinet to retrieve his fifty-year-old notes on vampire healing from Makenna. First, he had to completely remove any concentrated vampire venom around the dozens of bites he found on his visitor. Vampires can survive dozens of bites at once, but the venom in addition to the injury would cause healing to take even longer. Carlisle used his billows to create suction in a glass bell he placed over the wounds. It wasn't as easy as it seemed in principle. The bites were partially healed already. The process was more excruciating for his patient than he had predicted and Carlisle had to hold a pillow over his face to help muffle the screaming.

When Carlisle finished he had only two hours before dusk and his evening shift. He quickly retrieved some fresh animal blood and kept in water chilled by saltpetre. Since he had learned of the technique of mixing citrus juice with blood to preserve it, he had been able to bring back a glass jar full for emergencies. He fed his visitor some blood to feed his overtaxed system. The vampire was in a barely conscious state and protested the taste of animal blood but accepted the nourishment.

Carlisle looked down at his patient as his face relaxed again. He was physically probably the oldest vampire Carlisle had ever met. He had to have been in his mid-forties when he was transformed, yet Carlisle could see the same magnetic attractiveness that the change brought to every vampire. He was not overtly beautiful but he had a square jaw and long lashes, and when his narrow eyes were open their dark depths were captivating and haunted.

Carlisle decided that his visitor had taken enough abusive treatment for one evening and leaned over him. "I have to go to the hospital for about ten hours. Rest and recover, and I will reattach the limbs when I return."

The vampire opened his eyes, nodded, and then closed them again.

When Carlisle arrived at the hospital his sense of smell told him immediately that there was now an epidemic developing. He had to stop it. He rushed into the wards and found the doctors frantically running around and the nurses practically sprinting.

Carlisle strapped on his apron and stepped up to Giuseppe. "What happened?"

"You were right; our first patients are recovering, but now we have thirty more!"

"All of them at once?"

Giuseppe nodded. "The devil himself is behind this."

Carlisle stared at his student for a moment. Then in a moment of irrational fear he turned his head and scanned the area just to be certain there were no other vampires nearby. Carlisle frowned at himself. There was obviously no way a vampire could be responsible for an outbreak of Roman fever, but he realized he was feeling uneasy about his visitor. He shook his head and put away that thought.

Carlisle worked all night and ended up staying all day. The intake was so busy they never sat down. Through questioning the patients Carlisle and Giuseppe still could find no common connection between the patients. They were from different areas of the city, they used different waters for their washing and drinking, and they even shopped in different markets.

"It appears we have a mystery on our hands," Brambilla said calmly as he walked stiffly toward Carlisle with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Sir, we can find no evidence of a connection," Carlisle threw down his notes.

"And yet, we have an epidemic," Brambilla shrugged.

"No family connection, no residence connection, no diet connection, no water connection, no market connection, no church connection. What else is there?" Carlisle threw up his hands.

Brambilla mused quietly for a moment. "What about joy?"

"Joy?" Carlisle lifted a brow.

Brambilla looked down at Carlisle and smiled. "Entertainment, leisure. Everyone must find a way to relax."

Carlisle bolted upward. "The minstrels." He ran to the end of the row and knelt next to the first of two minstrels who had come in the previous evening. "Where do you perform? Where do you set up every evening?"

The man was shaking with fever but whispered, "Pi…Piazza Navona…"

Carlisle immediately stood up again and went to a young woman who was conscious two beds down. "Where do you go to watch the performers in the evening?"

"Piazza Navona," she said quietly. Carlisle asked three others; their answer was the same. Carlisle ran to throw on his coat. He had just over an hour to sunrise.

"I will go with you." Giuseppe began to take off his apron.

"No, Giuseppe, it may be dangerous." Carlisle put up a hand.

Giuseppe ignored his teacher's concern. "I will see this through."

Carlisle could see the light of adventure in his student's eyes and relented.

They took a carriage past Sant' Agnese in Agone and then walked. They spoke with everyone they passed. They looked everywhere for standing water – barrels, broken fountains, old rainwater – and found nothing. They sat on the Fontana del Nettuno and Carlisle worried that he was going to run out of time. He stared at the gods fighting the serpents of the sea and the horses frozen in time in the rippling water, and then he saw a single mosquito flying toward him. It landed on him, but of course Carlisle had no blood to tempt it. He smashed it before it could fly over to Giuseppe. He stared at the dead insect. _One I cannot track far, but this is an outbreak; there must be thousands nearby._ He listened harder, and immediately he heard it: a swarm.

Carlisle got up and ran across the piazza toward the sound, scattering pigeons in his wake, with Giuseppe right behind him. The sound led him to the Palazzo Pamphilj, and outside the kitchens was a trough used for washing, covered with mosquitoes. Carlisle cast a tightly woven net over it to prevent any more from escaping, and Giuseppe tossed lye on the entire swarm.

Carlisle returned home that morning to find his visitor completely recovered from the venom fever. "Why would you leave me with that mud to drink?" he grimaced as he pointed to the half-empty glass bottle.

"I am Carlisle." Carlisle did not expect him to answer just yet but wanted to offer his name first. Carlisle smiled as he removed his coat and scarf. "That, sir, is what I drink all the time."

The visitor sniffed the air. "But you've been around humans. I can smell them all over you, and everything in here smells like humans too. It's like you're around them all the time."

Carlisle stopped to look down at the perplexed vampire and gave him another amiable smile. "I don't feed on humans; I heal them." Then he ignored the stunned expression on his visitor's face and proceeded into the kitchen where he opened the corner stove and started to stoke the fire. "The unfortunate side effect of removing the venom is that you will be more lucid for the reattachment," he called back to his guest.

"What exactly are you planning to do?" the vampire asked apprehensively.

Carlisle returned to the main parlor. "I have to make the fire hot enough to join the limbs back onto you but not hot enough to destroy them. It's a delicate balance." The visitor frowned and turned his head away. "Can you tell me how this happened?" Carlisle asked. The vampire did not look back at him and remained silent. Carlisle went back to the fire and continued to stoke the flames. An hour later, when the fire was finally hot enough he retrieved the dismembered limbs, which were twitching slightly, as if they knew what was coming.

"Carlisle," the vampire called from the couch. Carlisle put down the leg and went to his patient. "Do we really have to do this?"

Carlisle looked at him compassionately. "That is your choice. But you are going to live through the venom fever, and it will be very hard for you to hunt without your limbs."

The vampire thought for a few moments and then looked back at Carlisle. "Harder to run too." His eyes became more intense. "They are coming, you know."

Carlisle's brows knit. "Who is coming?"

The vampire's eyes were distant and unfocused. "They want you: I can feel it."

Carlisle frowned, "I don't know who you think I am, but I am of no value to anyone but my patients."

The vampire's eyes shifted back to Carlisle. "You must fix my limbs, but then you must come with me!"

Carlisle looked into the vampire's frantic eyes. "Friend, I don't even know who you are."

The vampire shook his head. "You don't want to know who I am, trust me."

Carlisle smiled slightly. "I thought you trusted no one."

The vampire appraised Carlisle and then nodded. "I am called Alistair."

"Alistair, it is a pleasure. You are the first Englishman I have met in my travels."

Alistair snorted. "I've met plenty. I care nothing for them."

Carlisle appreciated this slightly misanthropic tendency and felt a strange affinity for this character. "And who attacked you, Alistair?" Carlisle said directly.

Alistair held Carlisle's eyes, "The vampire coven that has ruled our world for twelve centuries: the Volturi." Carlisle's face fell slightly hearing the name, and Alistair was satisfied he had instilled the necessary fear. "If you have heard of them, they knew about you long before you knew of them. And as I told you, they are coming for you. I can feel it."

"But why would they attack you? A single vampire among thousands?" Carlisle replayed in his mind what Charles and Makenna had told him. _They attacked covens, not singles, unless they broke a law…_ "Did you break their laws?"

"Laws, bah! They have no authority but fear. They are not MY masters, no vampire rules me," Alistair growled. "They wanted me for something. They tried to capture me. Sent their best after me. But I can get away." Alistair smirked.

Carlisle understood, remembering Charles's warning. _You have a gift they want_.

Alistair looked back at Carlisle. "Carlisle, you are unique too. I can feel it; though I don't know exactly what you have in you, I was drawn to your power. You MUST flee with me!"

Carlisle shook his head and leaned forward slightly. "Alistair, I appreciate your concern, but this is my home. I have commitments, and I will leave when I choose to. No vampire coven rules my destiny either." Alistair frowned at Carlisle as his own words were reflected back to him, and Carlisle smiled. Then he stood and held a pillow out in front of Alistair. "Are you ready?"

Alistair took the pillow and set his jaw. "Do it." Carlisle walked back over to the trembling limbs and put Alistair's leg into the fire, and Alistair screamed in pain and then threw the pillow over his face, which partially muted the inhuman cries.

Setting the limbs back in place was relatively easy but it took Carlisle's bellows a long time to get the stony flesh hot enough. The process essentially slowly burned Alistair alive to restore him to wholeness.

Even after the limbs were back in place and Carlisle had wrapped them tightly to hold them until they were completely healed, Alistair fought against the residual pain. To keep Alistair's mind off the agony Carlisle began to tell him stories of his life and adventures. He left out most of his human life but spoke extensively about his time with humans as a vampire.

Finally, Alistair growled, "Why are you so fascinated with living with humans?"

Carlisle smiled at Alistair's ill humor. "I'm not sure how I feel about living with vampires."

Alistair frowned. "Hmph. Well we agree on that point, Carlisle. The lot of them can all go to hell."

Carlisle looked down at Alistair with tremendous sympathy. It was probably the strongest feeling he had toward a vampire. "Tell me what they did to you, Alistair."

Alistair turned and stared at Carlisle with wide eyes. "What is your gift, Carlisle?"

Carlisle shrugged. "I don't know what you mean, Alistair."

Alistair seemed to scan over Carlisle's entire body and frowned deeply. Finally, he appeared to decide to drop the topic. "Carlisle, I have been places and done things that you cannot comprehend at this moment." His haunted eyes looked up at Carlisle's furrowed brow. "I can tell you that I have worked tirelessly to prevent vampires from destroying humanity. But – I am still a killer."

Carlisle stared at Alistair. "Did you face the Volturi?"

Alistair smirked again. "I don't face anyone. I whisper, sidle, and undermine. I work in the shadows. I don't know why I do most of the things I do. I don't know where I am going half of the time." Alistair frowned and groaned slightly against the pain. Then he looked back at Carlisle with pained eyes. "All I know is I was being drawn to Rome with a force I had never felt before. In all of my time, I have never had such a strong pull on my path. But as I approached the city, I was attacked. I am certain one of them was a Volturi – Felix. I'll never forget his stench." Alistair growled. "The other, he was too skilled, and I never caught a face or scent. They left me in a ditch, they don't have the courage to simply kill me, so they just maimed me and left me!" Alistair shouted, and his limbs shook. Carlisle put a hand on Alistair's chest to calm him. Alistair looked back at him. "It appeared to be too sloppy an attack to be ordered by the Volturi. But Felix does not do anything of his own accord." Alistair's brows lifted as he whispered, "They must been watching you, and were leaving to return to Volterra, but they sensed my approach. They tried to stop me from reaching you because -- _they are coming back_."

"Why would they try to stop you from meeting me?" Carlisle was stunned.

Alistair chuckled. "The Volturi must want you all to themselves. And they fear the hand of destiny," Alistair pointed to himself, then he scanned Carlisle again and grinned as he nodded toward Carlisle and whispered, "as well as the future."

The next evening when Carlisle left for work, Alistair lay essentially in a state of exhausted repose, recovering from the trauma of the treatment. Carlisle left him to his thoughts.

Carlisle began his evening in the chapel again. He was troubled by his encounter with Alistair but he thanked God for bringing Alistair to him. Then he prayed that whatever destiny God had laid out for him that he would do God's will.

With his head still bowed, he heard Brambilla walking down the hall to find him. Brambilla sat in a pew and waited as Carlisle finished his prayer at the altar, and then Carlisle joined him.

"Giuseppe has been singing your praises and telling the story of your amazing discovery of the nest all afternoon," Brambilla smiled.

Carlisle chuckled and nodded.

"I'm leaving within a month," Brambilla said quietly.

Carlisle turned to stare at him. "Why?"

"I have been asked to become director of the Josefinum school and hospital in Vienna."

Carlisle raised his eyebrows. "The Emperor is letting you leave?"

Brambilla chuckled, "Joseph will be in good hands without me. He understands that I will be carrying on his good name in Vienna." He turned toward Carlisle, "I have recommended that you be joined to the order and take administration of the hospital."

Carlisle stared at Brambilla. "Giovanni, I cannot accept."

Brambilla smiled. "Carlisle, you have abilities, and leadership beyond any other here. You know how much good you can do if you take on this hospital. You may carry this hospital into the next century."

Carlisle stared at Brambilla, and Brambilla did not look away. Carlisle knew the look on Brambilla's face: for some reason when men of God recognized Carlisle for what he was, it did not concern him as much. Brambilla's eyes wrinkled with amusement. "God told me you were coming, Carlisle. And whether you accept my offer and stay, or if you go, you have done His work. And I know you will continue His work, no matter where you are."

Carlisle turned his gaze back to the altar and tried to hear God's wishes. Was this the response to his prayer?

Just as he was about to ask for God's guidance he caught a scent, and he turned his head quickly. It was new, and it was close. Carlisle stood up. Yet again, it seemed his responsibilities as a vampire would interfere, but this was the first time Carlisle considered that God might have something to do with his destiny as a vampire.

"Giovanni, I must leave. I will return when I can." Carlisle ran out of the chapel and to his apartment. Alistair was right.

Carlisle knew before he ran inside his apartment that Alistair had fled, and he found the note in the kitchen.

_Carlisle – You have saved my life. That is a debt I can never repay. I am drawn away, and by now I am sure you know they are here. Do not trust them. Do not aid them. Your gift is the strongest I have ever seen. They will try to keep you._

_Good luck – Alistair_

Carlisle expected as much the moment he caught the scent of the vampire watching him at the hospital. He shook his head and smiled. Alistair was, so far, the vampire he had connected with the best. Carlisle folded up the note and put it in Hawthorne's box, silently wishing that he might see Alistair again someday.

Carlisle walked out to his private balcony and looked out over Rome. Evening church bells were ringing, and Carlisle contemplated his future. It seemed that wherever he went, the vampires came to him. He was not really trying to avoid them, he simply wanted to live as he wished. But now he knew that would not be possible until he faced the oncoming challenge.

Carlisle threw out his right hand, and without needing to look for his target he locked his fingers around the throat of the vampire that had appeared at his side only a moment before. Carlisle had sensed him following him from the hospital and waiting outside his window, which was why Carlisle had walked out onto the balcony. Carlisle turned his head to the newcomer. "I am Carlisle."

The new vampire was the same size as Carlisle, had chin-length dark hair and dark eyebrows, and he smiled even though Carlisle still held his throat in an iron grip. "Yes, I know, Señor Cullen. My name is Eleazar."


	11. Chapter 10: 1770

CHAPTER 10

~~1770~~

Eleazar's dramatically angular face and sharply defined lips were turned up in a pleasant smile that did not falter as Carlisle assessed his expression, still keeping his fingers around the visitor's throat. "Entering my home uninvited might be considered inexcusably rude, or terribly arrogant," Carlisle said with a slight edge in his voice.

Eleazar did not bother to discount either theory. "Your apprehension is understandable. Please, let me assure you that I am here alone because we did not wish to alarm you, especially considering your recent company."

Carlisle's eyes narrowed and his grip tightened slightly. "Where is Alistair?"

Eleazar chuckled. "Oh, I arrived only moments ago and found you at your hospital. He was long gone and is now far from our reach. And that is just as well, in my opinion. They should have known better than to even try to interfere with him. Alistair's fate is his own business."

Carlisle decided Eleazar did genuinely believe that the Volturi had no legitimate claim over Alistair, and that put him a little more at ease. Finally, he released his hand and took a step back.

Eleazar smiled more broadly. "I know you have been aware that we've been watching you. I personally have followed you on and off since Paris."

Carlisle was not shocked. "May I presume you speak for the Volturi?"

Eleazar bowed. "Yes, you may assume that I am their eyes and ears, but I speak for _myself_." He grinned as he emphasized the last statement.

Carlisle was now intrigued, but he was carefully guarded his reactions. "And what have you reported to the Volturi about me so far?"

Eleazar smiled again. "That you are the only exclusive animal-feeder currently in Europe that we are aware of. You also appear to be the first in at least five centuries to intend to maintain a completely human lifestyle indefinitely. And, most interestingly, by learning to desensitize yourself to blood you have become a healer and a surgeon for humans." Elezar shook his head. "I'll never forget the first time I saw you perform surgery back in Paris. I watched from the roof as you jumped in the back of a wagon that brought a man to your hospital and you had to amputate his leg in the open air. I thought you would feed on him right then and there." Eleazar chuckled, but not mockingly. "But look at you now! I saw you covered in blood last month with barely a wrinkle in your brow."

"It's been nearly century since I began practicing. And there were times I never thought I would be able to do what I can today." Carlisle's eyes were distant with many memories of past failures.

Eleazar shook his head. "Does the scent of blood not… light your mouth on _fire_ anymore?"

Carlisle shrugged, "Yes, there are times it still bothers me, but the pain decreases over time. And I enjoy the work too much now to let it interfere."

Eleazar tilted his head slightly to the side. "I sense unparalleled self-control in you. You think you have struggled over the last 100 years, but you have no idea what it is like for the rest of us." His brows knit, his grin disappeared, and he leaned forward slightly. "And you also draw me in with your dedication, your conviction, and your deep, endless compassion for suffering… because you have suffered…" Eleazar's voice was almost a whisper as it faded out. Then he blinked, shook his head, and his smile returned. "Fascinating. You are like – a force of nature, Carlisle." He took a step backward as if he was trying to escape a gravitational pull and shake off Carlisle's influence on his mind.

Carlisle looked back at Eleazar. He was obviously gifted in reading vampires, and both Charles and Alistair, two other gifted vampires, had said similar things to him. Yet Carlisle still could not fully comprehend what it all meant. Carlisle did not feel anything significant from the vampires he met. Vampires felt different to Carlisle, had a different impact on his senses, but he was certain he was significantly more affected by humans than vampires. Carlisle was a little shocked by that realization and began to wonder if there was something he was missing. He put that thought aside and focused back on Eleazar.

Eleazar did seem genuinely interested in Carlisle, not simply a mouthpiece or a minion. However, Carlisle could not be sure if Eleazar was reading things that he might share with the Volturi and not with Carlisle. "Eleazar, what do the Volturi want with me? And who are you in relation to them?"

Eleazar smiled again. "Carlisle, I promise you that all of your questions will be answered shortly. I have been following you to fulfill my own curiosity, but I was recently asked to make contact with you as a member of the Volturi Guard, and to give you a gift." Eleazar produced a small parcel wrapped in velvet from underneath his cloak.

Carlisle was completely surprised by this gesture. He took the package and cautiously unwrapped the fabric to reveal a rolled, crimson-red dyed leather pouch that was lavishly embellished with gold stitching. He untied the thong and unrolled it. The leather had been sewn into smaller pockets, and inside each sleeve was a highly polished metal tool. It was a surgeon's instrument pouch with over a dozen fine knives, saws, spreaders, and clamps. Carlisle glanced up at Eleazar. While he was flattered by the gift, he found the context somewhat macabre. "Please express my gratitude to your master."

Eleazar chuckled good-naturedly. "Trust me, Carlisle, we none of us have masters any longer." He bowed slightly. "It truly was a pleasure to finally speak with you after following you for so long. I have enjoyed watching your progress." He started to turn away but stopped and looked back at Carlisle again. "And I look forward to talking much more in the future about your… lifestyle." He lowered his head and then stood straight and smiled once more before he turned and jumped off the balcony into the starlit night.

Two days later, as the sun was setting before Carlisle left for work, he heard a carriage pulled by a team of six horses stop under his apartment window. Carlisle immediately stopped what he was doing and listened. When he heard feather-light footsteps he knew what was coming. He picked up the crimson leather pouch, which was sitting next to him on his desk, and walked toward his front door. When he was within one step of the entry, there were three polite knocks. Carlisle opened the door, and Eleazar was standing there with a black, cloaked figure.

Eleazar was slightly less genial this time. He actually seemed tense. "Carlisle Cullen, may I present Aro of the Volturi."

The cloaked figure lowered his hood, and Carlisle was surprised to see that his complexion appeared aged. His skin was flakey, like translucent shale instead of marble, and his eyes were slightly cloudy; and both gave him an unsettling appearance because it was difficult to read his face. Even his long curtain of dark hair seemed unnatural because it appeared to melt into his dark hood and cloak. Carlisle nodded to the new visitor whom every vampire he had met took so seriously. "It is an honor."

Aro smiled more warmly than Carlisle would ever have thought possible, and it was a strange contrast to his cold face. "No, Carlisle, I fully expect that the honor is in fact mine. May I enter?" His voice was soft and amused, and almost musical.

Carlisle wondered if Eleazar had reported to Aro about his respect for etiquette. Carlisle stepped aside and gestured for the two vampires to enter. Only Aro, however, crossed over the threshold. Carlisle turned back to Eleazar, who smiled for the first time at Carlisle. "You have much to discuss." Then he disappeared in a blur as he ran back down the stairs.

Aro took no notice of Eleazar's departure, and Carlisle found him standing in the middle of the parlor gazing around the room at various objects with a smile on his face like a child surrounded by his most cherished desires. "You are a collector!" Aro glided over to Carlisle's cabinet that held all of his journals and held his palm out in front of the locked doors without touching the handle. "You spend hours each day here. This holds a great deal of who you are." His voice rang with barely contained excitement. He drifted over to the desk and held his hand over Hawthorne's box. This time his soft voice was more reverent. "This has been with you since the beginning, and it reeks of blood and exudes memory."

Then Aro stopped in his tracks and stared at the wall in front of him. Carlisle followed Aro's eyes but that particular wall boasted only an unassuming painting that had come with the apartment. Aro drifted forward through the arched doorway into the bedroom just to the left of the wall where his eyes were locked. Carlisle now understood what had captivated Aro. Carlisle followed and found Aro staring down at the Reverend's cross where it leaned against the wall. Aro pointed to the cross, and now he was not smiling, the child-like glee gone. "This was your first piece. It is the oldest."

Carlisle did not feel the need to respond. Aro floated over to the cross and for the first time he reached out and touched an object in Carlisle's apartment. He ran his fingers very gently over the soft, flowing grain in the wood. Aro closed his eyes; touching the cross seemed to somehow disturb him. Aro turned back to Carlisle. "This is from when you were still human. It still carries the scent of your blood."

Carlisle still kept his face completely neutral. He had received enough warnings about the Volturi to know not to try to hide anything but also not to give anything away.

"So, you have only one item in your collection from your human existence, which suggests that you are more interested in learning from your vampire existence. Yet you spend all of your time pretending to be a human. I cannot resist asking why, Carlisle." Aro looked directly into Carlisle's eyes, his amused curiosity returning.

Carlisle looked back at Aro. "I did not choose to be a vampire, and I do not want to kill humans. I must learn about myself so I can learn how to use my abilities to help them."

Aro turned to the cross again and held his hand just above the wood. "There is more pain in this wood than there is in your entire collection." Aro's deep red eyes closed. "You suffered as a human. Why do you want to help them?"

Carlisle answered simply, "What other purpose can God have for an eternal life but to help others?"

Aro shifted his weight away from Carlisle and his eyes snapped open, and he whipped his head around to stare at Carlisle. His eyes held Carlisle's for a moment and then looked Carlisle over thoroughly as he stood there dumbfounded. Carlisle stared back at him because while what he had said was probably shocking, Aro appeared to be _physically_ affected by Carlisle.

Finally, Aro looked back into his eyes. "Carlisle, I thought that Eleazar and the others were exaggerating about you. And I am not wrong very often." His words carried the weight of millennia of experience. Then a smile slowly spread across this face, "But apparently, you were made to break the mold." Aro laughed lightly, but Carlisle could see something he had not expected in this patriarch: _fear_.

Carlisle examined Aro's cloudy eyes. "Why should you fear me?"

Aro chuckled, his red eyes narrowing to half-moons as he smiled. "Carlisle, how old are you?"

"I am 127." Carlisle could not see the significance.

Aro did not react. "And how long have you been a vampire?"

"For 104 years," Carlisle said quietly.

Aro nodded and then drifted over to the double doors that were letting in the last of the direct sunshine from the setting sun and put his hand out into the light. The rays bounced off the surface of his skin, flashing a rainbow of colors. "I am over 2700 years old." He stated that fact lightly, but Carlisle knew he meant it to have an impact. He turned back to Carlisle. "Most vampires can feel that I carry a significant presence. But you," Aro waved his hand lightly toward Carlisle, "you actually _project_ such waves of power all around you… that you barely even notice I exist." Carlisle could not hide his surprise, and Aro laughed out loud. "And you do not even understand what I mean." Aro took a step closer. "Carlisle, I've come to ask you to visit Volterra. I think that we can learn a lot from each other."

Carlisle looked for any sign of deceit in Aro but saw none save the element of fear he was still trying to hide. Carlisle knew that Alistair was right; the Volturi would try to keep him. However, Carlisle also knew that he still had so much to learn, and that this was an invitation that would enable him to see what the Volturi were about for himself, as well as to have access to some of the oldest records and memories in existence. If the vampires had anything that Carlisle might find more meaningful than the life he had made for himself serving humans, this would be his best chance of finding out.

"Send a carriage for me and a second for my collection in thirty days," Carlisle said simply.

Eleazar returned on the appointed date. Carlisle had concluded his affairs with the hospital, much to the chagrin of the new administrator. "You will always have a place here in Rome, but especially at Santo Spirito."

Carlisle was melancholy as they drove away, and Eleazar left him to his thoughts for the first few hours. They drove all night with the curtains open; Carlisle breathed in the sea air as they skirted the coastline. Suddenly, Eleazar began to chuckle. "I have never seen a vampire behave so much like a human."

Carlisle had to smile a little. Eleazar would sit still as a statue for the entire trip, but Carlisle felt the need to continue to shift and breathe and blink, like humans did. "It's become such second nature I barely think about it anymore."

"May I ask you my questions, Carlisle?" Eleazar's voice had taken on a delighted and curious tone that reminded Carlisle of Aro.

Carlisle nodded. "You may ask me anything you wish."

"How did you resist feeding on humans right after the change?" Eleazar asked.

Carlisle shrugged. "I was so focused on not becoming what I feared the most that I was able to isolate myself so I would not harm anyone."

Eleazar's eyes went wide. "You tried to kill yourself," he was leaning toward Carlisle again, captivated.

Carlisle's small smile returned. "Tried and failed."

Eleazar's brows came together. "Carlisle, you do realize… that it may be impossible to kill you?"

Carlisle chuckled. "What do you mean? All of us can be killed in some way – "

"No, no, listen to me. You wanted to know why Aro fears you, yes?" Carlisle nodded. Eleazar seemed to be searching for the correct words. "Aro fears you because you are likely the most powerful vampire we have ever seen." Carlisle merely stared at him incredulously, so Eleazar continued gesturing with his hands to express what he was trying to communicate. "The power within you – it is not a tangible, overt gift. It is a corona. It radiates out like the sun and moon send out light. My gift is to read the gifts of others, and in my 600 years I have never met another like you. Even Aro was clearly confounded by you. We do not yet know the limits to your strength. And to my knowledge, you have only tested your mental strength."

Carlisle nodded in agreement. "I have never had the need to test anything else." The only exception was when he trained with Charles and Makenna. Carlisle decided not to bring up their names. He doubted they would want to become a topic of conversation in Volterra.

Eleazar seemed to have more to say on the subject of Carlisle's unknown talents, but instead he switched back to his original question. "Do you never _thirst_ for human blood?"

Carlisle shook his head. "I never _want_ to drink human blood. But yes, the old thirst is still there."

Eleazar's brow wrinkled. "And how do you control it?"

Suddenly, Carlisle realized there was more behind these questions than simple curiosity. "You've been following me because you want to live like me." Carlisle was for that brief moment happier than he had ever felt in decades. He was not alone.

Eleazar, however, became guarded and looked away. "No, no. I simply… need more information." Then he sighed. "I don't think I could ever hope to have your self-control, Carlisle."

Carlisle felt the hope inside him wane slightly, but not completely. Eleazar clearly had a complicated life. He was part of the Volturi and did their bidding; but, that allowed him to wander mostly on his own, and he did not call them his masters. He was also clearly questioning his way of life after watching how Carlisle lived his, but he did not believe he could make it work. "I am always here if you want to know more," Carlisle said quietly.

Eleazar nodded and then dropped the topic. They drove through the night and the day; their human escorts changed drivers as needed to get both carriages to Volterra by the following dawn just as the sun was rising.

When they arrived the carriages were driven into an opulent covered driveway with gargoyles that stared down at them from every inch of the roof. The two vampires walked directly into the citadel through two enormous ornate doors that were covered with wooden carvings painted in gold, and depicted scenes of terror and massacre. Carlisle found the doors quite unwelcoming.

A tall, thick vampire with short, black hair met them at the entry. His crimson eyes were somehow more disconcerting than Eleazar's, perhaps because there was only thinly veiled menace in them, and his lips curled up in a sinister smile. "Mister Cullen, my name is Felix. My master asked me to admit you to the castle, and bring you directly to the audience chamber. All of the Volturi are there to greet you."

Carlisle nodded cautiously. "Thank you."

Felix shot a glance at Eleazar that Carlisle could not read and then he turned and led them forward.

"I thought you did not have masters," Carlisle murmured with a little mocking in his tone. Eleazar merely smiled and looked forward. Carlisle knew what he had meant: they and a few others were on a different level than some of the other Volturi Guard.

The enormous entry hall was two stories high, and every inch was painted fresco. And astonishingly, it was full of human servants. Carlisle was instantly horrified by how many were there and Felix suddenly flinched, then stopped in his tracks. He looked back at Carlisle, and then turned to Eleazar and lifted a brow in surprise.

Eleazar quickly put a hand on Carlisle's shoulder and leaned close so he could whisper into his ear. "They are only servants. We either go outside the city, or our food is brought to us. Volterra is very safe for its human inhabitants."

Carlisle tossed Eleazar a quick disapproving glance, but reminded himself once again that he was willingly entering a vampire fortress. He had to respect their customs. He promised himself, however, that he would not allow any killing in his presence.

Eleazar and Carlisle walked behind Felix as he led them up the grand marble staircase that was lined with mirrors. They went up several levels to chambers high above the main level of the citadel. Eleazar seemed tense but in control and confident.

Finally, they stood at the top of the staircase under a large painted dome and in front of two more enormous, ornately carved wooden doors. These doors were even more ghastly than the entryway. Everything about this palace screamed: _run away_. As soon as they were standing in front of the doors, the panels swung open.

Aro's lilting tones rose above the din inside. His voice actually seemed to come from everywhere and right in your ear all at once. "My new friend, Carlisle, please, come and meet the Volturi!"

The audience chamber was a stark contrast to the rest of the building Carlisle had passed through. The white marble floors shone, and the ceiling was painted in glorious bright pictures of the countryside and the sea filling the domed roof above a circle of large windows that bathed the room in bright morning sunlight. The chamber itself resembled nothing so much as an ornate Roman cathedral with stained glass windows and carvings, even wooden box pews where the Volturi sat, and Carlisle found the echo of such holy sanctuaries distasteful. There were over three-dozen Volturi varying in shapes and sizes; all wore the deep black robes, their skin gleamed in the natural light that flooded the room, and every pair of eyes that stared at Carlisle were a deep, blood-red color.

Eleazar remained at Carlisle's side as they entered the room, but Felix moved to the left and let them pass and then immediately began reporting to those around him in a low growl. "As we were walking through the hallway past the humans I _felt_ him!"

Carlisle did not listen to anymore because he was too focused on what was ahead of him. On a dais several steps above the mass of vampires there were three wooden thrones with lions carved on the armrests. Two more ancient vampires now flanked Aro, and they mildly resembled each other but they differed in the appearance of their physical age and one had white hair.

"Carlisle, this company is the Volturi Guard, and we are the _original_ sons of Volterra. May I present, Caius," Aro indicated the vampire with white hair and a displeased look, "and Marcus." Aro turned to the other with long dark hair and an exquisitely bored countenance.

"So this is the _animal_-feeder," Caius looked down his long nose disapprovingly. "You think 100 years without drinking human blood is impressive?"

"Ah, now, brother, he has never tasted human blood. _Ever_." Aro corrected gleefully.

"He has probably bathed in more human blood than you, Caius, and never consumed a drop of it. And you have never _saved_ a human life, or any life for that matter," Eleazar said defensively, and with more than a little ire. Carlisle was surprised that Eleazar felt the need to be his advocate and put up a hand to prevent him from going any further.

"Living among humans is simply hubris. You think you are the first to try it? The arrogance," Caius scoffed and turned away, sitting down on his wooden throne.

Though Marcus still looked supremely bored, his cloudy eyes were now on Carlisle, and he did not sit down. Aro sighed. "Caius does not care for my interest in expanding our knowledge – a passion that I believe you share, Carlisle."

Carlisle, however, did not miss what Caius had implied. "How many others like me have there been?"

Aro grinned. "There have been many others."

Carlisle's eyes were now wide. "Where are they?" For a moment he hoped that they might actually be in this group.

"Gone," Eleazar said quietly.

Carlisle turned to him. "Gone _where_?" He glared at Eleazar as if he had kept a secret from him.

"We do not know, Carlisle," Aro said soothingly. "We find them occasionally, we make contact, and most of them recant their ways after a period of time. But those who remain staunchly abstinent after about 100 years simply… disappear," he waved his hands theatrically.

"We assume they fade and die. We have found no traces. Well, some naturally are killed, but most of them are simply _gone_," Eleazar frowned and his tone betrayed his frustration.

Carlisle suddenly felt completely exposed. Before the largest coven of vampires he could ever imagine existed, he had been told without ceremony that he was alone, and would likely be alone forever.

"You, however, seem to be the exception." Aro said eagerly. "You have not only survived over 100 years, you have also thrived!"

"After I lost the last one, I swore I would not let _you_ out of my sight." Eleazar said firmly. "We have been completely surprised because we see no weakness in you, in fact, we all feel a power that we cannot comprehend," Eleazar finished with a smile.

"Enough! He is not a herald or an omen as you all seem to think! Look at him! He is a child! What could he possibly bring to us? He doesn't want to even be one of us!" Caius screamed.

Suddenly, Marcus lifted a hand from beneath his robes and offered his palm to Aro without looking at him because his eyes were still trained on Carlisle. Everyone turned toward Marcus, and even Aro seemed slightly startled but eagerly clasped Marcus' hand. Then he smiled more broadly still as he released the hand and Marcus turned to sit down.

"My brother says that Caius is wrong. He senses that the power of your connection to life, all forms of life, is larger than the simple relationships between individuals. It is a type of connection he has never experienced before." Aro clapped his hands together ecstatically. "We have so much more to discuss. We will begin after you have settled and unpacked. Eleazar, will you see him to the family level? We have prepared an entirely new apartment for him."

Carlisle spent most of his time over the years with Aro. It was clear that Caius had no desire to spend any more time near him. Also, Aro was obviously unsure that Carlisle did not represent a significant challenge to their authority, but he also perceived more than most that Carlisle was genuinely uninterested in amassing power. Aro found this a little foolish considering the strength at Carlisle's disposal, but he was happy to be able to converse with Carlisle without wondering whether Carlisle was gathering tactical information.

Aro and Carlisle frequented many artistic venues but favored the local opera, and they would sit in silence marveling at the heights capable of the human voice. As yet, Aro did not know of a vampire that had the range of a boy soprano. Vampires had inhumanly beautiful voices that carried the sound of music even when they spoke, but they could not reproduce the labile motion of the vocal cords of an immature human child. They sat in Aro's patron's box and drank in a range of sound that only a vampire can appreciate fully.

Afterward, they often walked in the gardens of the castle together and one evening Aro stopped to lay a hand on an ancient olive tree that stood near the center, with its branches reaching to the velvet sky streaked with billions of stars. Carlisle saw how lovingly Aro stroked the bark, and he smiled slightly. "The first in your collection?"

Aro did not look back at Carlisle. "No, it was my father's."

Carlisle's smile faded. "As was the cross in my collection. It hung in his church for over thirty years."

Aro was intrigued. "Your father was a clergyman?"

Carlisle nodded. "And yours?"

Aro sighed. "He was a spice trader. Our shipments came from the port at Piombino, and we brought them to Volterra for trading with inland merchants. We enjoyed quite a colorful life. We left the village more than most people, we mixed with sailors and people from distant lands, and we brought culture to our region. My mother was the daughter of the administrator of the port. She brought my father even more wealth and more than a little spice into his life." Aro smiled, and then the smile faded.

"As my father aged, I began to learn about running the business. Marcus was the son of my father's business partner, a good six years older than me, and he had the best mind for business deals because he seemed to understand the relationships between people. I had the brains and helped Marcus with the numbers and strategic planning." Then Aro's face became hard with a deep frown. "Marcus and I were driving a new shipment home from the port when we got word on the road that a local war lord had attacked Volterra. I had never been so frightened. We found the city burning, and our parents among those who had been murdered. The clan that attacked did not care about the fertile fields or defensible position of the city; they only cared about looting and stealing people for slave labor. My sister was among those taken. There were not even enough men left alive to mount a counter-offensive." Aro's ancient teeth were clenched, and his crimson eyes were burning with hatred over two millennia later.

"Marcus was inconsolable, he wept over his mother's body for days. I was merely frightened for my life. We found Caius wandering aimlessly in a livid rage. He had killed dozens of the attacking clan and swore revenge for his burning home. Marcus wandered away from our camp one night while we were asleep, and we did not find him for two weeks despite our desperate search. Then one evening he simply walked back into our camp as if nothing had happened. Only something _had_ happened," Aro's eyes went wide as he recalled the ancient memory.

"Marcus had in his hand the white severed head of our enemy. And we could see in the firelight that Marcus now had blood-red eyes. He said that he had found a way to restore peace to Volterra. Caius immediately wanted to join, but I was more cautious. '_Where did you find men to help you kill the war lord?_' I asked plainly. Marcus shook his head, '_I found the power to kill him myself_.'

"Caius was ravenous; he screamed, '_Give me the power too!_' But I wanted more information. '_Where did you find such power?_' Marcus lifted his hand. '_Take my hand_.' I reached out, and the moment I touched his frozen skin I knew what Marcus had become and what he had done. I began to recoil, but he pulled me into an iron grip and sank his teeth into my arm." Aro sighed. "Four days of pain later, I woke up to find myself changed, and Caius was already awake and looking for his first kill."

Carlisle looked sympathetically at Aro. He was certain Aro had revealed more than he intended. "Did you resent Marcus?"

Aro turned to Carlisle and looked a little defiant. "Yes," then the fire returned to his red eyes, "until, as he promised, we reclaimed the city. We hunted down our enemies. I rescued my younger sister, Didyme, who had been taken." Aro's brow creased as he said her name but then he quickly recovered. "And then we built our citadel with this garden around the ruins of my father's house. And we made the city safe. And we have held it for nearly 3,000 years."

Carlisle watched as Aro's eyes became almost wild with his tale of glorious revenge. Carlisle empathized with the trauma that led Aro to his current life, but he knew that Aro would never understand Carlisle's perspective on the corruption of power.

Aro noted Carlisle's reserved acknowledgment of the tale of the Volturi, and he grinned as he changed the subject to another point of contention between them. "Now may I ask you a question?" Carlisle nodded. "Do you acknowledge that your natural thirst is for human blood?" Carlisle nodded. "And do you acknowledge that most beasts of the world crave what will nourish their bodies the best?" Carlisle nodded again. "Then why do you fight your most natural instinct for survival?"

Carlisle took a moment to consider his reply and then he looked back at Aro. "Why do you enforce the law against revealing the secret?"

"To maintain order and the food supply." Aro replied.

"Maintaining order in vampire society?" Carlisle asked. Aro smiled and nodded. "I am upholding the social rules and a morality of human society, and I believe they are more important." Carlisle spoke softly, but firmly.

Aro's eyes swept over Carlisle again and he did not speak for several minutes. "Every time you talk about humans with such _empathy_, you send out a current, Carlisle." Aro looked back at Carlisle's face. "I wonder if this innate source within you is endless."

Carlisle saw wonder in Aro's eyes, but there was a hint of jealousy. He ignored it and focused on the question he had wanted to ask Aro for years. "But what do the currents feel like to you?"

"I do not know," Aro whispered. Then he dropped the topic. "Do you think that upholding human social rules makes you faultless?"

Carlisle frowned. "No, I do not believe anyone is above moral judgment or the consequences of their actions."

"But we _are_ above human morality, my friend. Our society has completely different values," Aro smiled.

"And what principles among vampires are different or higher than human morals?" Carlisle inquired.

"We kill. We _must_ kill. Life is not sacred. The only sacred value for vampires is our fidelity."

Carlisle frowned again. "If life has no value, then life has no meaning. And that would make our existence meaningless. I cannot accept that."

Aro grinned. "Carlisle, my dear one, you look for meaning in an existence that is endless. The longer you live the more you will see that things that are eternal rarely have meaning, they simply _exist_."

Carlisle's brow creased. "So then what is your reason for living?"

Aro's grin spread across his face eerily. "Curiosity, my dear Carlisle, I am driven by unending curiosity." Then Aro's eyes narrowed. "And what drives you, Carlisle?"

A single word answer appeared in his mind, and he knew it was the only word that could describe what drove him to fight his instincts every day. "Compassion."

Aro turned his head and stared at Carlisle again. This time however, he did not tell Carlisle what he was thinking, and after an hour of silence Aro left Carlisle in the garden and drifted back into the citadel.

Carlisle spent his afternoons in the cloistered garden enclosed by a very high stone wall that allowed a few hours of direct sunlight. There was no danger of any humans seeing the dazzling display of vampire skin in the sunlight, so Carlisle spent every available hour of direct sunlight in the beautiful green space next to the olive tree.

Carlisle had never seen so much sun. Growing up in England and spending most of his time in the north did not afford him much exposure to the warm glow. Now, living so much farther south, Carlisle could not get enough of it. His vampire eyes could perceive even more in the world around him when it was bathed in sunlight.

During one of his sunlit afternoons Carlisle was reading a scroll Aro said was originally from the library at Alexandria when he heard some familiar footsteps. Carlisle turned and saw Eleazar bearing his characteristic broad smile. "When you left I did not realize that you would be gone for so long." Carlisle chuckled.

Eleazar shrugged. "What is eleven years to a member of the Volturi, Carlisle?"

Carlisle narrowed his eyes slightly as he smiled, but he let the misnomer slide. "Are you staying long?"

Eleazar stepped out into the sunlight, and the shine on his skin was almost as lustrous as the blue-black sheen of his hair. "I've returned because I am reporting on my latest find." Eleazar smiled broadly.

Carlisle nodded, but there was something in Eleazar's smile that made Carlisle's brows crease. "What is it? You are hiding something behind that large grin."

Eleazar did not reply. He simply turned and walked back into the castle. Carlisle was meant to follow. Carlisle sighed and rolled up the scroll before placing it back in the engraved metal tube. As soon as Eleazar walked back into the citadel Carlisle heard him speaking to another vampire. When Carlisle walked inside, Eleazar was blocking his view of the visitor.

"He is one of my favorite vampires, the most fascinating of our kind that I have ever encountered," Eleazar said. Then, hearing Carlisle behind him, he stepped aside to reveal a vampire with long, curly, dark hair pulled up into an elaborate twist, her petite figure encased in a voluminous royal purple gown. With a broad Eleazar smile he introduced her with a bow and flourish. "Carlisle Cullen, may I introduce Miss Raisa Yashin."

She was breathtakingly beautiful; her petal lips led to a dramatic pointed chin that accentuated her long swan neck. Her hair came to a widow's peak and framed her enormous eyes. Her beauty almost distracted Carlisle from the shining golden color looking back at him. Carlisle was speechless. Finally, he whispered, "Another like me?"

Raisa smiled broadly. "Yes, Mister Cullen. Though, I confess, I have tasted human blood a few times." She lifted a brow coquettishly.

Carlisle reached for her hands without thinking about decorum and clasped both of them within his own. "I cannot tell you… how long I have waited for you." Carlisle felt as if his cold heart might start beating again.


	12. Chapter 11: 1784

CHAPTER 11

~~1784~~

Carlisle stood with Eleazar when Raisa was introduced to Aro. Aro seemed somewhat put out by her.

"And where did our talented Eleazar find you?" Aro's tone was smooth as silk. Carlisle tossed a glance at Eleazar who rolled his eyes.

"Siberia, my Lord," Raisa said graciously.

Aro smiled, "Well, dear one, I can see my friend Carlisle is happy that Eleazar brought you to us." Aro looked up at Carlisle, and his grin faltered slightly. "You will stay in Volterra, Carlisle?" The statement was more a command than a question, but Carlisle let it slide because he didn't care.

"Of course, Aro," Carlisle said quickly.

Aro smiled again and then held out his hand to Raisa, "May I share your thoughts, dear one?"

Eleazar stepped forward, "Aro, stop – Raisa, remember what I told you: Aro can read every thought you ever had instantaneously if you touch him."

Raisa lifted her hand to Eleazar, "I do not object, Eleazar. I have nothing to hide." She delicately touched the center of Aro's palm and then stepped back as Aro grinned down at her.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Raisa." Aro's smile now held a strange tension, but it was as gleeful as ever.

Carlisle spent weeks with Eleazar and Raisa, showing them what he had learned and taking Raisa to all of his favorite haunts in and around Volterra. Together the three of them were the liveliest bunch among the Volturi. When Eleazar left again on another assignment and Carlisle was alone with Raisa nothing else in the world existed.

Raisa was from a remote area of the harsh cold southern region of Siberia. She had been changed by an unnamed vampire who had then left her completely alone. She had killed her entire village by the time she recovered from the haze of her transformation and early thirst, including her entire extended family. She'd had a husband and six children and she'd fed on all of them before she realized what she was doing.

The village was so remote that six months would go by between visitors. Raisa began feeding on animals out of necessity but quickly realized that she could easily survive without human blood. Out of remorse for what she had done to her family and village, she swore an oath never to kill another human.

A traveler came eight months after she was transformed. Her lack of exposure to humans made being near him a nearly impossible situation. When she bit him, however, she remembered sobbing for weeks over her husband's decaying body, and she recalled her oath. She sucked out the venom from his burning arm, nursed him to health, told him he had caught a fever, and sent him on his way. From that moment on, she remembered her oath and lived only on animal blood.

Raisa remembered with longing everything about her human life, especially her husband and her children. She told Carlisle the entire life story of each of her six children. It took two months, and Carlisle did not speak until she was done.

Raisa was the second person that Carlisle told about his father, and he told Raisa much more than he ever told Hawthorne. He told her his entire story which took nearly a year and a half.

When Carlisle finished telling how he came to Volterra they were out in one of their favorite remote wooded areas hunting for deer, Carlisle's favorite. Raisa preferred wolves, tundra wolves especially, but was developing a taste for the local deer.

Carlisle was looking up at the vast sky and telling her about the octagonal dome in Santo Spirito. "When I would pray every morning I would look up at the ornate carvings and just imagine they were part of the night sky. Nothing can match the beauty of the Milky Way."

Raisa turned to Carlisle. "Tell me how you made your peace with God."

Carlisle looked back at her and smiled. "We cannot deny that we are all made by God. We would not exist if we had not been created by the same natural forces as every other creature on this earth. Therefore, we must have a place in God's creation. But because we are also of humanity, we must have the same choices. We must be able to choose to go against our primal nature, one that humans have as well; to kill, to steal, to lie and cheat. God has given us that choice as well. So I choose to follow God's wishes and put love, not hate, at the center of my life."

Raisa had moved closer to Carlisle as he was talking, and he felt her interlace her fingers in his and kiss the back of his hand. He stared at her, and she looked up into his eyes. Suddenly she laughed. "I never thought I'd see fear in your eyes." She leaned forward and pulled his head down to meet hers, and their lips met in a tender kiss. Carlisle wrapped his arms around her, pressing her lips against his. She responded fully, bringing her fingers up through his short blonde hair and deepening the kiss. Carlisle pulled back, staring at Raisa with pained eyes.

Raisa looked back at him slightly confused, and then her face melted back into an adoring smile. "Carlisle, do not worry. I will be careful with you."

Carlisle blinked and looked away for a moment before he looked back at her with a slight crease between his brows. "Raisa, I have been searching for so long for someone who believes as I do…"

Raisa put a finger to his lips and whispered, "I believe as you do, and I want to stay with you, always."

Carlisle smiled down at her and then kissed her deeply. She immediately began to pull off layers of his clothing. As they pressed closer to each other, Carlisle discovered that his stony skin was able to give against hers and her cold breath on his face felt warm to him. Carlisle had never imagined that he might have such a physical and spiritual connection with another person. And in each other's arms they felt they might never be lonely again.

One evening Carlisle and Raisa were in his rooms discussing his musical education. Carlisle had a parlor, a bedroom and bathing room, and a study that were connected by a long balcony that looked down on the cloistered gardens. The high ceilings were filled with sunlight during daytime hours and he kept the giant crystal chandeliers lit all night. Carlisle's collection of art and personal belongings were scattered among the rooms, and his father's cross hung in a place of honor in the parlor.

Raisa was almost completely uneducated, and they had spent the years in Carlisle's study and around Volterra supplementing her knowledge, mostly by discussion and reading. Music, however, was hands-on, and he was teaching her to play the piano and the violin, often with his arms wrapped around her, guiding her technique.

Suddenly, Raisa lifted her bow from the strings. "Do you hear that, dearest?"

Carlisle turned his head and listened. "A crying child? In the citadel?"

"Yes!" Her eyes were alight and she quickly deposited the violin on the table and ran out into the long hallway, her skirts flowing behind her as she ran.

Carlisle's brow was furrowed. It could be only one kind of child. "Raisa wait! I have to explain!" Carlisle caught up with her swift feet just before she reached the main audience chamber, where he knew the child was. "Raisa, listen to me. It is not a human child; it's what they call an 'eternal child.' Aro and the Volturi have been systematically trying to rid the world of these children. They are a danger."

Raisa laughed. "Nonsense! How can a child be any kind of danger?" She pushed open the large doors and found most of the Volturi watching a small boy who was sitting in the middle of the floor throwing a horrible tantrum. Raisa rushed forward to the child and pulled him into her arms to comfort him. "But he is a vampire!" Raisa exclaimed delightedly, cupping her fingers around the child's head and rocking him as he continued to whine.

"He was made a vampire as a child." Aro corrected, his smile slightly dangerous.

"Aro, why did you bring another one here?" Carlisle said angrily.

"Why, to study it, my dear Carlisle! We must learn as much as possible; surely you can appreciate that! And look how Raisa has taken to him!" Aro declared delightedly.

Carlisle's teeth were grinding. "The decision was unanimous! Why did you not destroy him with his family? Why subject him to this inhumane treatment?" Carlisle was shouting. He rarely shouted, and no one shouted at Aro. The entire audience turned their faces to look at Carlisle.

"_Kill_ him? Why on earth would you kill this child? Or his family?" Raisa picked up the child protectively, and he was becoming calm so he began playing with Raisa's hair.

"My dear Raisa, the eternal children have no self-control. They kill indiscriminately; they care nothing for protecting the secret." Aro sighed.

"Then _why_ did you bring him here?" Carlisle raised his voice again.

"I will train him." Raisa said decisively, looking lovingly into the boy's face. Then she turned and left the audience chamber.

Carlisle watched her go and then turned back to Aro who was smiling wickedly. Carlisle narrowed his eyes at him. "Jealousy does not become you, Aro." The old vampire continued to smile and did not reply. Carlisle turned and followed Raisa.

Carlisle returned to his rooms and closed the door behind him. Raisa was giggling as she played with the boy in the middle of the room. Carlisle walked up to them and sat in a nearby chair.

"I know what you are going to say, but we can do this," Raisa said without looking up at Carlisle.

"Raisa, when you touched Aro's hand he instantly knew everything about you. He knows your greatest wish is to have a child again," Carlisle put his hands on her shoulders, and his voice was pained. "We must succeed in training him," Carlisle sighed.

She looked up at him and smiled, "Really?"

Carlisle nodded. "We will prove Aro wrong."

Raisa jumped up and threw her arms around Carlisle. Then she turned back to the boy. "Anton, come and hug your father!"

The boy got to his feet and walked over to Carlisle. He had very dark hair and enormous eyes like Raisa. Carlisle looked down at the boy, who smiled up at him and opened his arms wide, lifted them up toward Carlisle, and waited. Carlisle reached out and put his hand on the boy's head and smiled. Anton smiled back but kept his arms out. Raisa giggled and picked up Anton and put him on Carlisle's lap; then he put his head on Carlisle's chest and did his best to wrap his arms around Carlisle. Finally, Carlisle enveloped the boy in his arms and closed his eyes. He could see in his mind the last eternal child Aro and brought to Volterra twenty years before. And he recalled the day Caius had determined she had to be destroyed.

Carlisle opened his eyes. "I have a plan."

"What do you mean?" Raisa said as she smoothed Anton's hair.

"They have never tried feeding the eternal children with only animal blood," Carlisle whispered.

Raisa looked into Carlisle's golden eyes and she smiled. "I named him after my father."

Carlisle nodded. "I know." Raisa leaned forward and kissed Carlisle.

Anton began to giggle. "Kisses!!" Raisa giggled too and kissed Anton on the head. They were both determined. They knew the price that would be paid if they failed.

Anton completely enjoyed the chase and the capture inherent in hunting. He and Carlisle made a special game of it. They would often end up gorging a little too much because they enjoyed spending the time together. Anton was also a voracious learner. His vocabulary expanded exponentially within months, and five years later he was working with Carlisle on scientific experiments and composing music with Raisa.

Except for hunting expeditions they purposefully kept Anton away from humans and cloistered in Volterra. They wanted to be certain of success before they tried anything that could be dangerous because Aro was watching them so closely. But Aro and Caius had other plans.

Felix came to the Carlisle's apartments in Volterra one afternoon. "One of the servants has cut her hand. We need your…expertise."

Anton looked up from his toys and his nostrils flared. Carlisle looked over to Raisa, and with his eyes he told her to keep Anton in the apartment. Raisa nodded at Carlisle. Then he stood, picked up his bag, and ran out following the scent of blood.

He arrived to find that the maidservant had actually attempted suicide in the kitchens. Her veins were opened and she was whispering a man's name.

The head chef stood up when Carlisle arrived. "Please! Please don't take her! She was having an affair and it ended! She thinks she wants to die, but she is young!"

Carlisle shook his head impatiently. "Why would I take her?"

The chef looked at Carlisle warily. "They usually take anyone foolish enough to spill their own blood."

Carlisle frowned. The humans who worked in the citadel, even in useless façades like the kitchens, were there because they were paid exorbitant wages; but they knew only too well who had ruled their city and kept it safe. The stories went back thousands of years. Some wanted to stand at the cusp of life and death, and some actually wanted to be vampires.

"I am here to help her," Carlisle said brusquely, he did not have time to discuss the matter. He picked her up, and put her on the nearest table. He put a tourniquet on her bleeding arm and then with quick, precise movements he began to sew the vessels back together. The damage was not devastating, and if she could survive the fever that would follow, she still had plenty of blood. The chef watched with wide eyes as Carlisle sewed so fast his hands were nearly a blur because he could hear Anton's footsteps and Raisa running after him.

Carlisle knew that Anton was too fast for Raisa because he had seen him hunting so many times, but he had hoped that Raisa's strength would keep Anton away. Just as Carlisle stopped the bleeding he realized that there was still blood everywhere – on the floor, the table, his own hands.

Carlisle turned to the chef. "Clean up the blood! Find a mop and some water!" Carlisle shouted. He began to clean up the table and to wipe the blood off the girl, and then his excellent hearing allowed him to perceive that Caius and Felix had intercepted Anton, and that Raisa was screaming.

Carlisle stood and ran out of the kitchens as fast as he could toward the hall where he could hear Raisa sobbing. He found her on the floor, collapsed in the middle of her skirts, and Caius standing over her. Felix and Anton were nowhere in sight, because Caius had already burned Anton, and Felix did not wait around to see Carlisle's reaction.

Carlisle's face was drawn. Caius's face was completely unrepentant. Carlisle knew the entire plan had been set up to break Raisa's spirit. But the moment Raisa had seen the boy, there was nothing more Carlisle could have done to stop the ingenious scheme. He walked over to Caius and stood toe to toe with him while Raisa sobbed at their feet. Carlisle struck Caius across the face, tossing him across the hall into the wall and leaving a dent in the wood paneling. Caius coolly pulled himself out of the wall, straightened his robes, and looked back at Carlisle who was still standing defensively over Raisa. Then Caius smiled viciously and walked away.

Carlisle waited until Caius was completely out of sight and then gathered Raisa's petite body in his arms and carried her back to their apartment.

When he laid her on the couch she caught his arm. "Carlisle," she sobbed, "you still have blood all over you; it burns my throat."

Carlisle bowed his head and left to bathe.

Carlisle immediately began making plans to leave Volterra. Raisa barely reacted when he told her of his ideas about where they should go. Three days later Carlisle returned from hunting and found Raisa looking at the instruments in the surgeon's pouch that Aro had given Carlisle. When he walked over to her, she lifted her head, stood up, and kissed him deeply. Carlisle was so overjoyed to see her responding to him again that he forgot what she was doing before they made love.

When they lay in each other's arms she was stroking Carlisle's chest when she sighed, "Why have you not been working in the local hospital?"

Carlisle looked down at her, but she was not looking at him. "I have on occasion in the past, but when you came to me, I had more important things to do."

Raisa was silent for a few moments. "But, Carlisle, that is your gift."

Carlisle put a finger under her chin and turned her face toward him. "You are the greatest gift. And you are all I ever wanted."

Her brows knit slightly. "No, Carlisle, I'm not. You've spent most of your life searching for a way to save humans as a vampire… to serve God."

Carlisle was unsure where she was leading, but he did not like that she did not include herself in that picture. "Raisa, I've made my peace with God. All I want is to have a quiet life and to work and live with humans. And I want to do that with you."

Raisa got up and pulled on a robe. She was facing away from him again. "Carlisle, do you have any idea why I lived so far from humans?"

Carlisle closed his eyes. "Because you were afraid you would massacre them as you did your family."

"I cannot live around humans. I can barely control myself around one or two. I cannot live around you coming home every day smelling of the blood of your patients. I cannot live like you do."

Carlisle felt his throat closing up as he reached for her, "Raisa, don't – don't do this!"

Raisa's eyes were endless pools of emotion as she looked back at him. "Carlisle, I know myself, and I know that I do not have your control. And I want a family. I want it more than – anything!"

Carlisle ignored the fact that she wanted a family more than she wanted him, and he jumped from the bed to block the door. "You cannot leave like this, Raisa! We will find a way; we'll have a family! You don't have to live with me in the cities – "

Raisa interrupted him before he got any further. "Live separate lives? Carlisle, I want to BE with you!" She put an ivory hand on his marble face. "You have a mission, a calling that I can never truly be a part of. I would never try to take that part of your life from you, and you cannot compromise who you are to be with me, to give me what I want." Her forehead wrinkled as she whispered, "I love you, Carlisle. I will always love you."

Carlisle put his arms around her and with clenched teeth he shook his head. "No, NO!" His body shook from tearless sobs, "Don't leave, please, don't leave." He locked her within his iron arms and swore he would never let go until she agreed to stay.

She pulled his head down to her and kissed him passionately, so passionately he felt like his head was swimming, and then suddenly he realized his arms were empty and he was standing alone by the open door, completely naked both physically and emotionally.

Carlisle remained in his chambers, not moving. Aro came to resume his role as Carlisle's most frequent companion and acted as if he'd had no part in Raisa's departure. Carlisle did not even acknowledge his presence. Aro became irritated and eventually left.

More weeks passed. Carlisle did not go out to hunt; the thirst began to gnaw at his insides, but he endured the pain. He had not felt so hopeless since he was first changed.

One afternoon there was another knock at the door, and Carlisle still did not move to answer it. The door swung open and a vampire glided into the room, but Carlisle did not turn to see who it was; he assumed it was Aro. He hoped it was Caius, arriving to end his misery.

"You must move, Carlisle." A deep, faint voice rumbled from behind him. It was the voice of a vampire who had not spoken outside his own mind in centuries.

Carlisle was so astounded he finally turned his head for the first time in months because he realized that not only had Marcus come to see him but that he also had something to say. Then Carlisle's brow creased, because when he looked at the ancient vampire he could see in Marcus's dead face his future. If he allowed himself to become consumed by his loss, he would turn to stone.

Carlisle turned his entire body toward the Volturi who still stood just inside the doorway. "Marcus, tell me how you lost your wife."

Marcus did not move from where he was standing, and did not speak. Carlisle waited patiently as the sunlight traveled slowly across the floor and walls of his room.

Several hours later, Marcus spoke again. "My wife is dead because of the nature of vampires." Marcus's dead eyes looked back into the past beyond what Carlisle could hope to understand, and then he went back further. "Our knowledge of vampire history only reaches only as far as the memories of others we have contacted can remember. We know that over 7,000 years ago there was an unexplained decline in the human population in Europe, most likely due to disease or famine because of changes in the position of the northern ice.

"The vampires were forced to move or starve, and over-hunting reduced the human population even more, so the fighting began over territory. Vampires migrated all over the world to try to find new areas to feed and discovered there were already covens of various sizes in every corner inhabited by humans, even on the most remote islands. The newcomers to the southern hemisphere entered into feuds with the older vampires, and that conflict still rages.

"The vampires who stayed in Europe fought until around 5,000 years ago when the first Germanic coven dominated the majority of the continent. They hailed from an advanced culture of humans and brought with them a respect for order and social responsibility unheard of among vampires at that time. Older vampires were tired of fighting, and younger vampires were more interested in peaceful survival, so the ruling coven amassed their power and they began to grow arrogant. Their leader sat in his halls of stone and did not move, ruling by exerting his will through thought rather than deed, and eventually, after another 2,000 years, he turned to stone and never moved again.

"There was only one other in the coven whom the remaining vampires would follow, but after the security of the previous ruler, within a few hundred years others began to question his absolute power. A cycle of infighting began, and the Germanic coven fought only amongst themselves for the next 2,000 years. By that time, civilized vampire society as we know it was already fairly well established so they did not need the Germanic coven to rule as they had; and so few took notice as one Germanic leader deposed another.

"However, as human society became less stable and the population changed again, we, the Volturi, were changed in that time. The warlord who attacked Volterra took advantage of the weakened power of the local governor and looted while he could without consequences – until we were changed. We destroyed him, set up a benevolent ruler in the city, and defended it against vampires and any other attacks. Volterra flourished under our protection, and we were able to choose which vampires were allowed to stay, with the understanding that they would never hunt within the city walls.

"Then Stephan and Vladimir, brothers changed by the heads of two prominent factions, took control of the Germanic coven and united the power of the north. Over the next 500 years they ruled by ruthlessly destroying any coven that grew too large and too powerful. As the Roman Empire began to fall apart around us, the Germanic coven expanded their interests, and we came under their scrutiny.

"We knew if we fought them we would lose, so Aro devised a plan. We began to recruit. We sent out messengers to our friends, reminding them of our respect for the laws and for the opportunity of all vampires, and many came to fight with us. The battle took place in the Alps, and there were thousands of vampires involved. Over half of the vampires present died, and mostly on the Germanic side. We were victorious because Aro understood that if we were perceived as saviors, we might be saved ourselves.

"But unfortunately, as our rule progressed, our success in keeping the order among the vampires caused us to believe our own propaganda. And I, as natural leader of the Volturi began a mission to ensure that the law was respected, with no exceptions. Caius dutifully carried out the necessary discipline, and Aro continued his campaign to solidify our image as the protectors of vampire society, even expanding that image to other continents." Suddenly, Marcus stopped talking.

Through this monologue Marcus had not moved save his mouth, and his tone had varied little. But when Marcus fell silent he floated over and sat in a gilded wooden chair across from the chaise lounge where Carlisle sat amazed. Now Marcus's deeply clouded eyes were turned upon Carlisle. Carlisle wondered if he could actually see anything through the haze or if he simply knew every single centimeter of Volterra so well he did not need his sight.

Marcus pulled open his robes to reveal a deep, long, jagged scar that crossed his chest like a fluorescent lightning bolt. "A thousand years ago the Germanic coven attacked Volterra. They killed humans and vampires without discrimination. But they did not succeed. After a few centuries, they tried again, focusing on the vampires. I was attacked and separated from my Didyme, but when I had vanquished my foes I found Aro standing next to the fire our enemy had started and he was looking down at his hands." Marcus bowed his head slightly and closed his robes. "When I came close enough I saw that he was holding a dismembered tiny white hand. He looked up at me and showed me the hand – it bore my wife's ring." Marcus looked back up at Carlisle. "In my grief, I began to see what our society had done: we had replaced one ruthless empire with another and simply expanded the blood feuds of the southern continents to a larger scale. We were not more enlightened vampires; my Didyme had taught me that true enlightenment for a vampire was to love, not to dominate. I stood by as Aro continued to dominate the vampire world."

Marcus reached out and grasped Carlisle's arm, and Carlisle stared into his clouded eyes. "Carlisle, in my nearly 3,000 years, I have never seen a vampire so dedicated to living in peace. It was not until you met Raisa that I felt that you are capable of strong ties to your own kind, as deep as your connection to humans. I know now that not only will you affect the human world, but you will also affect vampires just as profoundly." Marcus's eyes bore into Carlisle's. "You must _leave_ Volterra. Do not stay with Aro. You must follow your own destiny because that destiny may be – to change the nature of vampires."

Carlisle and Marcus found Aro in the audience chamber with Caius and half of the Guard. They were expected.

Aro stood and frowned at them as they approached. "Marcus, there is something you have been keeping from me." Aro held out his hand and waited.

Without hesitation, Marcus stepped forward and climbed the steps up to the dais where their trio of thrones sat. Caius actually seemed slightly intimidated by how animated Marcus was. Aro stood his ground, with his eyes narrowed and his hand outstretched. "Not just you, brother, all of us. Caius, Carlisle, I must measure all of your thoughts on this matter."

In all of Carlisle's years with the Volturi, Aro had never asked to touch him. Perhaps he feared what he would find in Carlisle's mind or the effect it might have on him. Carlisle had nothing to hide from Aro, so he stepped forward. Several of the Guard shifted forward when Carlisle moved up onto the dais, but Aro lifted his other hand. "Stop, dear ones. There is nothing to fear."

Carlisle stood next to Marcus, and Caius stood next to Aro. Caius placed his hand on top of Aro's, Marcus put his on top of Caius's, and Carlisle placed his on top. Aro's fingers curled around all three of them.

Instantly, Carlisle was pulled into Aro's power. He could hear his own thoughts speeding past his ears and could see his experiences flying past his eyes. Then he heard in the faint distance the thoughts of the Volturi. They were not in direct communication with each other; instead, one-sided communication with Aro caused the arguments to come all at once in a mass explosion of thought. The Volturi simply knew each other so implicitly that they knew every argument the others would make, and each contradicted every angle the others might present. Carlisle struggled simply to catch the thoughts as they passed, and was able to guess mostly from whom they were coming from.

_He is a danger, he has always been a danger, he must be eliminated…_

_I would leave with him if I could…_

_You will be more content with us if he stays to keep you company…_

_We need him to solidify our power, his passion matches my own, and his natural magnetism draws more power to us…_

_He will not solidify anything but his own following in our midst and will breed dissention…_

_We are all more compassionate when he is present, his power pulls the best tendencies out of everyone near him…_

_He will never be changed by you…_

_He carries too much guilt for his very existence…_

_We do not seek penance or forgiveness…_

_We do not seek peace either…_

_He will never feed on humans…_

_He will never be one of us…_

_He truly believes that vampires have a role outside of destruction, that vampires are a natural part of the world…_

_If he stays he may have a positive influence on all of us, and he may be able to positively influence the world through us, we will be more compassionate rulers…_

_That is a lie; we will never be compassionate. We must never fall for our own lies again…_

_We rule by maintaining order, through justice and swift judgment; he has no place with us…_

_He will never fight for us; he is strong and fast, but he locks his opponents in his grip and refuses to kill…_

_He respects our harmonious life, our pursuit of knowledge…_

_Our existence is based on fear, locking ourselves inside our citadel…_

_He will not last another hundred years…_

_He is stronger than the others were…_

_We will outlast him…_

_No, brothers, you do not seem to see beyond his death… He will outlast us…_

Aro suddenly broke the connection, releasing all of their hands. Aro and Caius stared at Carlisle. Carlisle saw the same fear that he had glimpsed only once before when they first met in Carlisle's apartment.

Carlisle stood tall as an oak, his eyes narrow and his hands taut at his sides. Aro gave him another cryptic smile, but Carlisle could see that a tiny edge of emotion was creeping into his perfect mask. "Carlisle, I love you like all my dear ones. You must stay with us, always."

Carlisle understood perfectly what Aro meant. He would not be allowed to leave while it pleased Aro that he should stay. "Aro, as I'm sure you realize, I have no fear of my own destruction. Therefore, you have no power over me. There is nothing more I wish to learn from you. I prefer to gather my own evidence and to draw my own conclusions."

Felix stood poised and very nearby, awaiting his master's signal. But none came.

Aro lifted his chin, but there was now a measurable sadness in his soft voice. "Compassion may drive you but it will not help you survive the darkness of the human world." Aro's frown deepened. "Farewell, Carlisle. I sincerely hope your inner light endures long enough for us to meet again."

Carlisle ignored Aro's implied meaning. "Thank you. I cannot fully express how much this experience has taught me. I leave you in peace." And he turned and left the marble chamber.

Carlisle left Volterra the following evening. Each of the Volturi watched his carriages drive away from different windows in the citadel. Aro dropped the curtain on the window in his private chambers as Carlisle's carriages vanished through the gates of the city. Marcus's words echoed in his mind. _"He will outlast us…"_

Carlisle drove away from Volterra with a new fire inside him. Marcus had been right, and so had Raisa. He felt more dedicated than ever to finding a way to live in harmony with humans and with vampires. But the farther he got from the lights of Volterra, the pitch black of the road ahead began to overwhelm him. He was, once again, completely alone.

~~ END PART I ~~


	13. Table Of Contents: PART II

TABLE OF CONTENTS

~~ PART II ~~

Chapter 12

1811

Chapter 13

1847

Chapter 14

1863

Chapter 15

1918

Chapter 16

1921

Chapter 17

1928

Chapter 18

1933

Chapter 19

1937

Chapter 20

2005

Chapter 21

2005

Chapter 22

2006

Chapter 23

2006

Chapter 24

2007

Chapter 25

2113

~~ EPILOGUE ~~


	14. Chapter 12: 1811

~~ PART II ~~

The New World

CHAPTER 12

~~1811~~

Carlisle looked up from his modest wooden desk and lifted his nib pen from the notebook he was writing in. The knocking on the door was persistent, never a good sign. Carlisle didn't need to push aside the heavy velvet curtain blocking out all sunlight from the single window in his tiny office to know that the day was fading and he had an appointment to keep. He closed the notebook and locked it inside his desk. He would have to find a way to make this unscheduled visit quick if he hoped to arrive on time.

Carlisle opened the door and greeted his visitor, a young man in his twenties of average height, with slick black hair. "Good evening, Samuel. I have an appointment at seven. I trust this will not take long?"

Samuel did not smile. "We have another one you'll want to see, Carlisle."

Carlisle looked up at his colleague, and frowned. "When did the body arrive?"

"She wasn't a body," Samuel shook his head. "But just like the others her blood was drained. We tried to transfuse her, but we think the blood we gave her hastened her death."

Carlisle's brow creased and he shook his head. "You must mix the blood of the patient, and the blood of the donor for at least two minutes before you transfuse!"

"Carlisle, trust me, we didn't have time." Samuel's eyes were pained. "She was fading very, very fast."

Carlisle nodded and picked up his coat and hat from the stand. "Show me the body."

They walked to the morgue deep in the bowels of the hospital. Samuel shivered, and Carlisle pretended by pulling his coat tighter.

Samuel unlocked the door and led Carlisle to the second autopsy table. Carlisle could smell the vampire who had bitten the girl, but did not recognize the scent. Whoever it was, they were new to the area. Carlisle was already acquainted with all of the vampires of the territory. Nearly all of them were migrated old world vampires; only a few were humans transformed while already living on New World soil. So, either one of the older vampires had made a new vampire, or an unknown element had moved into the area.

He frowned as he examined the wounds. The local vampire covens would not appreciate being put in danger by such carelessness. He was now twice as glad for his appointment. If someone had made a new vampire, they were not taking responsibility for it. The community needed to be informed.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Carlisle nodded to Samuel.

"It's been months since we had one of these. Whatever you are doing with your investigation into these cases, it's saving people like this," Samuel said earnestly.

Carlisle nodded, looking to the floor. "Well, my friends and I know how to handle the… stranger murders."

Samuel cocked his head. "Carlisle, my great-great-grandfather started practicing medicine here over one hundred and sixty years ago. These kinds of deaths ebb and flow, but they have always been here." Samuel sighed. "Others have taken an interest, but no one has actually used their fortune to send men go to the streets to fight for these people." Carlisle glanced up at Samuel and saw only admiration, no fear. Carlisle did not shy away from Samuel's knowing gaze, but he did not give Samuel anything more to feed his suspicions. "Shall I send her for burial?" Samuel said quietly.

"Yes. I've seen all I need to see. Please make sure I get a copy of the autopsy file number so I can refer to your report later." Then Carlisle waved and walked back up the stairwell and out the front hallway nodding to the night watchman as he left.

He stepped outside and the purple dusk sky streaked with clouds tinted orange greeted him. Carlisle put his hat and coat on against the frosty November evening, and turned to his right, walking quickly due west toward the Charles River. Carlisle had arrived in Boston twelve years before and within two years was studying at Massachusetts Medical College of Harvard University. When the college moved to Marlborough Street seven years later Carlisle was offered an associate professor position, but he taught only one class at the college because he spent most of his time at his office helping set up the new Massachusetts General Hospital.

Carlisle was attracted to the project with some of his former classmates and professors because the hospital was conceived to care for the poorest residents of Boston. Carlisle was reminded of Santo Spirito in Rome, and brought his expertise in setting up the programs of care. He also worked in the pathology department as an investigator of mysterious deaths like the one Samuel had brought to him that afternoon. Because the poor could not pay for police investigations, Carlisle was often their only hope. As a result, Carlisle saw most of the deaths which were obviously due to vampire feeding. And he was on his way to meeting the friends who helped him make sure that feeding never got out of control.

Carlisle walked through the Charlesbank Park toward the river, enjoying the evening lights across the water. Though most of the people had gone home at sundown, there were still a few carriages driving through the park with their oil lanterns alight, and some scattered chatter nearby. Just as Carlisle sat on a bench his companion appeared next to him and sat down gracefully. "Good evening, Siobhan." Carlisle said with a slight smile and took off his hat.

Siobhan was a six-foot tall, voluptuous, stunningly beautiful woman. Her fiery red hair was pulled back into a neat bun, covered by a fur-trimmed hat. She also wore a fur wrap over her high-necked, long-sleeve emerald green gown which was a stark contrast to her bright red eyes. "Good evening, Carlisle. So what shall we discuss this evening?"

Carlisle sighed and looked out over the water again. "We appear to have a rather careless hunter."

Siobhan scoffed. "None of the Irish clan would be so imprudent."

Carlisle nodded. "I did not recognize the scent. It must be someone new to the area, or one of our own has been making new vampires."

Siobhan frowned. "No one has added to their clans since we arrived nearly forty years ago. You are the most recent new resident. The only reason why we accepted you is because you do not threaten our food supply." Siobhan chuckled.

Carlisle turned to look directly at Siobhan. "The female victim I saw tonight was attacked so negligently, she was not even dead when she was found."

Siobhan grumbled, "That is unacceptable. It must be a migrating sewer rat." Carlisle turned away and nodded as he unconsciously adjusted his cravat. Siobhan regarded him sympathetically, her eyes drifting momentarily over the edges of the livid scar that still peeked just above his stiff high collar. "Do not worry, Carlisle. We will stop this before he changes anyone against his or her wishes. We are definitely of the same mind on that topic."

Carlisle turned back to Siobhan. "Is Garrett still in town? He would be a great help in the search."

Siobhan shook her head. "He decided it was time to see the country again." Siobhan sighed. "I miss my own countryside. I remember running over the hills and along the shore as a little girl. I will return someday."

Carlisle smiled. "I could always take you on a hunting trip..."

Siobhan laughed. "Always a thoughtful gentleman, but my answer is still no. I will go back when the time is right. In fact, I should tell you the next chapter in my little Irish runaway's story…"

Carlisle lifted an eyebrow. "You are still following her?"

Siobhan sighed and rolled her eyes. "Do not tease me."

Carlisle could not suppress his smile. "Careful, Siobhan, you may start feeling something for this girl."

Siobhan sniffed. "She is a fellow Irishwoman. I take an interest in protecting my sisters. Even if they are still – mortal."

Carlisle turned toward Siobhan. "You've influenced her, haven't you?"

Siobhan rolled her eyes again. "Carlisle, you don't know what you are talking about."

Carlisle shook his head. "Siobhan, since she arrived with her family from Ireland and they were all killed by the pox, she has survived starvation, four Boston winters and untold abuse on the streets. You think that your gift has nothing to do with that?"

"I wish only that – she survives a little longer. Besides, I think she has a few instincts of her own that are keeping her safe." Siobhan lifted a brow.

Carlisle blinked. "Really?"

Siobhan smiled. "She was getting her meal at the soup kitchen and one of the child slave labor masters approached her. He promised her a warm bed, three meals, and pay. Even though the deal was clearly too good, he had an honest face, and a very engaging demeanor; but she saw right through him, and ran away. I took care of him that night," and she smiled viciously, "just to be sure he wouldn't bother her again, of course."

Carlisle sighed and nodded. "Of course."

Siobhan stood up. "I will encourage the others look for the sewer rat, and in exchange, I want you to memorize her scent." Siobhan produced a single, curly red hair. "If she comes to you, I want you to let me know."

Carlisle took the hair, sniffed it and he nodded. He stood and held out his hand, Siobhan laid her hand on his and he kissed the back of it. "Always a pleasure, my lady." Then he placed his top hat back upon his head and she winked and disappeared as only a seasoned vampire can.

Carlisle lifted his chin and sniffed the night air and found not a hint of the vampire he was seeking or the little redheaded girl Siobhan was watching. He took the opportunity to walk at human speed back to his brownstone house on Louisburg Square which he had bought when he'd arrived from Europe. The neighborhood accepted him as a younger son of a genteel British family, and asked no more questions when his accountant evaluated the wealth he had amassed over more than one hundred and fifty years.

When Carlisle reached his door he unlocked it and was greeted by his newest housemaid, Mary Christine. "Good evening, Dr. Cullen. Are you not working tonight, sir?"

Carlisle handed her his top hat and smiled, "I have a late shift at the hospital. I'm just stopping in to change."

Mary seemed disappointed. "I wondered if you'd ever stay in from the dinner club and let me make you a home-cooked meal."

Carlisle chuckled, "I don't pay you to cook for me, I'd never impose."

She sighed, "You pay me enough to clean and wait on you hand and foot, sir. I don't feel right about it, to be honest."

Carlisle smiled. "I don't like people to be unhappy working for me, and I find if they are happy they stay with me longer."

Mary was forced to smile finally. "Oh, don't you worry. I'll stay after you marry, and run after all of your children and grandchildren, Doctor." Carlisle's smile faded a little, and he looked away. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. Did I offend you?"

Carlisle turned back, but did not look her in the eye. "Not at all, Mary."

Mary backed away slightly. "I'm sorry, Dr. Cullen. Your family is none of my business. It's not my place."

Carlisle turned toward the stairs again. "I'll go and change now, Mary." He walked up the stairs and heard Mary muttering to herself in the parlor about how such a young, handsome, wealthy man should find a wife and settle down. But she also said thoughtfully that he was a bit too sad, and a young man ought not be so melancholy, for he was too young to have a broken heart.

Carlisle went to one of his locked cabinets and opened it. He found what he was looking for in exactly the place he had packed it over a decade ago before he left for America. He pulled out the papers, set them on the mantelpiece and then retrieved his violin.

The cheerful song flowed from his strings as his bow floated lightly through the stanzas, and Mary stopped making noise downstairs as she listened, which reminded Carlisle of Herr Koller's servants listening to them play in Vienna. The single-movement piece ended almost too quickly. Carlisle leaned against the mantelpiece and stared at the music for several minutes, then quickly picked up the pages and tossed them into the fire. The last gift Raisa had given him, one of her many compositions, was now reduced to ashes.

Carlisle changed to his work suit and left without saying goodnight to Mary.

The next few months passed without many epochal moments. Carlisle continued to work, teach, and meet with Siobhan on a bi-weekly basis. There were no more strange killings, and Siobhan's "pet" continued to survive the brutal streets of Boston. The weather turned colder, and the gray skies hung low as winter took hold, and Carlisle was able to go outside a lot more during the daytime.

One afternoon Carlisle decided to go for a walk across the common and enjoy the daylight hours. He didn't see nearly as much daytime as he had in Volterra, and he liked to take advantage of it when the opportunity was there.

Carlisle swept his gaze across the snow-covered ground, delighted in the crunching sound his boots made in the fresh snow, and with his vampire eyes he relished every unique symmetric pattern in each snowflake that fell before his eyes. It was a very light drifting, floating snowfall that seemed to take forever to reach the ground and muted much of the noise of the city that surrounded him and cleaned the air.

Carlisle lifted his chin slightly and took a deep breath, then his eyes snapped open and he turned his head to the right. He heard a sound just as he caught the scent. He ran as fast as he could in daylight. He turned down the alley, and found the crumpled body. He turned her over and actually watched as the last of her life drained from her eyes. The stench of the vampire he had been searching for months was all around. Carlisle looked for a sign of the vampire, and saw nothing, but could already tell the vampire had left by running down the alley in the opposite direction Carlisle had come from. Carlisle now cursed the daylight. He had lost the vampire and the girl because he was running at a human pace.

Carlisle's anger pulsed through him, and with a heavy heart he laid the girl down again, and vowed to return and retrieve her body properly. He had to pursue her attacker because no one else could. He ran down the alley and lifted his nose again. He turned right and ran down the street. The vampire was not far ahead of him, he could feel it. Carlisle began to assess the situation around him. Despite the snow and the chill there were humans walking everywhere. It was four in the afternoon. The street was full of carriages. However, the vampire knew Carlisle was coming; and he had slowed to a walk. Within minutes, Carlisle reached out and put a vice-like grip on the vampire's left arm and pulled him forward. "Keep walking," Carlisle hissed into his ear.

The vampire did not respond. He simply did as he was told. They walked in silence until Carlisle found a small café and then he led the vampire to a table in the corner and sat him down. The vampire did not look up at Carlisle's hard amber gaze. His blood-red eyes stayed on the table. The waitress came over to them and took Carlisle's hat and coat, but the other vampire did not move. When the waitress shot a questioning glance at Carlisle, he gave her a slight smile, "Bring us two brandies, please." His smooth, soft voice clearly pleased her and she happily walked off to procure his request.

Carlisle turned back to the vampire. "What is your name?" The vampire did not respond or move. "Do you know who I am?" No response. "Do you understand that you have moved in on a territory that is held by vampires who will stop at nothing to drive you out if you continue to kill in daylight and recklessly leave corpses behind?" The vampire nodded. Carlisle's eyes narrowed. As he had been speaking, suddenly his own anger was ebbing away, and he began to put together a picture of what was really happening.

The vampire was distraught. Carlisle could feel it. His affect was completely disconnected. He had run away from Carlisle at first, but then he had given up. He was aware he was not following the rules. Something was desperately wrong. "What happened to you?" Once again, no response. And then Carlisle dropped in the last piece of the puzzle. The first girl was still alive, but she was dying. "I saw the first girl. My staff tried to save her at the hospital." The vampire lifted his eyes for the first time, and Carlisle saw what he expected, anguish. "She died before I saw her." The vampire's eyes dropped to the table again as he shook his head.

The waitress arrived in that moment with their drinks, and Carlisle paid and tipped her generously. She looked for an opportunity to linger, but Carlisle did not give her one so she reluctantly walked away.

"I failed," the vampire whispered.

Carlisle sighed, "You failed to change her."

The vampire nodded. "I left her at the hospital. I didn't have enough control to do it."

Carlisle put a hand on his face. "So now, by killing in daylight are you trying to get the Boston vampires to kill you, or the Volturi?"

The vampire looked up. "Who are the Volturi?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No one. Where did you come from?"

"North," he said dejectedly.

Carlisle leaned forward. "Why did you try to change her?"

The vampire lifted his eyes and they stabbed into Carlisle's as he said with exquisite pain, "_I am alone_."

Carlisle's sympathy for this vampire suddenly overwhelmed him, and he had to look away because he did not want to expose himself completely to this stranger, even if they were feeling exactly the same emotions. But as Carlisle looked away, the vampire jerked back slightly as a wave came off Carlisle.

The vampire looked back at Carlisle. "What was that?"

Carlisle shook his head. "I really don't know."

The vampire realized that the wave he felt from Carlisle was definitely not malicious, and his eyes fell. "You aren't here to kill me, are you?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No. You need to leave or the Boston vampires will kill you."

The vampire put his head in his hands. "If you won't even help one of your own kind, why didn't you just leave me be??"

Carlisle sighed. "Please, leave the city. I am your last warning."

The vampire stood and with stooped shoulders walked dejectedly out of the café. Carlisle stared down at the untouched brandy. He sat there for nearly an hour and barely moved. When he finally stood to leave the waitress handed him his hat and coat almost immediately and smiled at him. Carlisle was unable to conjure much more than a half-hearted attempt to return the smile, and left.

He walked back to the body of the girl and found her covered in a light dusting of snow. She was already half frozen. He could not carry her across the common yet; it was still daylight. He returned to the hospital and waited until he and the staff could discreetly retrieve the body.

"Carlisle, if you don't start listening to me I'm going to leave," Siobhan said impatiently.

Carlisle looked over at her and frowned. "Siobhan, have you ever seriously considered changing a human?"

Siobhan looked a little annoyed at the change in topic, but smiled. "Of course."

Carlisle lifted his brows in surprise. "Really?"

Siobhan regarded him sympathetically again. "Carlisle, we were not all changed as you were. I wanted this life."

Carlisle accepted that statement because he knew she was being honest with him, even though he could not relate to it at all. "And, do you still want it when the loneliness sets in?"

Siobhan chuckled. "I will let you know when my coven leaves me completely alone. But I plan to find one to change before that happens." She smiled at Carlisle. "I'm waiting for my little runaway to grow up. Then I'm taking her back to Ireland."

Carlisle's brows lifted again. "You're going to change her?"

Siobhan nodded sincerely. "She won't last if I don't, and I can see it in her eyes. She's a predator, and she wants to live, to survive. She will make a perfect vampire." Siobhan looked at Carlisle as he looked away while she was speaking. "You disapprove?"

Carlisle shook his head. "I don't think I can do it, I can't change a human."

Siobhan sighed. "Carlisle, I think you should." Carlisle gave her yet another astonished look. "If you don't, I'm not sure you will ever find anyone who can truly follow you."

"Follow me?" Carlisle's brow creased.

Siobhan laughed out loud. "Yes, follow you. You live so differently, I'm not sure that anyone can live up to that unless they are with you… from the beginning."

Carlisle tried to imagine biting a human, and could barely get past that horror. Then he tried to imagine feeling their pulse slow, their muscles fail, their resistance weakening and the light fading from their eyes. Then suddenly he was overwhelmed with the memory of the pain of his transformation. Carlisle dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and then stood up suddenly. "Good night, Siobhan." He quickly walked away without looking back. Siobhan watched him go. Carlisle was one of her favorite vampires, but she had never met a more tortured man.

Carlisle walked up to his front steps, but a scent stopped him. He hadn't smelled that scent in almost thirty years. "Come down and say hello properly, Eleazar." Carlisle smiled and turned around as Eleazar landed like a cat in front of him. Eleazar gave his friend one of his trademark large grins, and embraced Carlisle like a brother.

Carlisle shook his head. "I never would have believed that the Volturi would come for such a small problem. The trouble-maker has already been dealt with."

Eleazar lifted a brow. "I have no idea what you are talking about. I left the Volturi about ten years ago."

Carlisle could not stop his jaw from dropping slightly, but pure joy swelled within him. "How?" Then Carlisle caught the new scent. "Who is with you?"

A tall, slender female with deep black curls barely contained in a large bejeweled hair net, and wrapped in a yellow gown and fur coat casually walked up to the two men and also grinned at Carlisle, as Eleazar tucked her under his right arm. "Carlisle Cullen, I'd like to introduce you to Carmen Flores of España."

Carlisle bowed and Carmen held out her gloved hand. Carlisle kissed the back of it. "It is an honor, Señorita." Then as Carlisle looked back up into Carmen's face, he saw that Carmen had dewy golden eyes. Carlisle looked back at Eleazar and realized that he too had the same amber glow in his irises. Carlisle's mouth turned up into a smile. "It appears you have a story to tell me."

Eleazar's smile faded. "We do, Carlisle, but first, I must give you some news." Eleazar looked to Carmen for strength, then he turned back to Carlisle and put a bracing hand on his shoulder. "My friend, Raisa is dead."


	15. Chapter 13: 1847

CHAPTER 13

~~1847~~

Carlisle opened the private car door and stepped inside the train to Unalaska. Eleazar and Carmen were not back yet from hunting so Carlisle walked over to the far window of the train car and slid the glass open. Even after thirty years of traveling across the continent with his companions, the vast, untamed beauty of the Canadian wilderness never ceased to render him completely speechless with awe. The European countryside was unlike any other, but the sheer scale of North America frequently caused Carlisle to sit and stare with wonder until one of his friends reminded him to blink. Outside his window the evergreen trees went on for miles, the eagles swooped and dove overhead, the salmon jumped in white river water, and the cries of so many different kinds of wildlife filled the wilderness with a symphony of sound. Carlisle also watched every town they passed and often jumped off the train to investigate any scent of a vampire. He was just returning from one such detour after easily catching up with the train.

Carlisle took his atlas out of his suitcase and wrote a few more notes at the approximate latitude the train was passing. The newly formed animal-feeder coven was traveling across Canada in search of others like them. Even though his stop in the village they had passed did not reveal any vampires, Carlisle was filled with anticipation as they got closer to their destination. Carmen had found a vampire in San Francisco who had encountered an entire coven of vampires who only fed on animals, and they were now on their way to try to find them.

Their investigation had been mostly disappointing and confirmed what Eleazar had found in Europe during his time with the Volturi: most vampires who switched to animal feeding eventually gave up on it, and vampires in general completely avoided mixing in human society. There were exceptions but they were few and far between. In addition, there was at least one case where the vampire they were looking for disappeared without a trace, which Eleazar had seen twice before. They had eventually found his house deep in the wilderness, but it had been abandoned for at least a decade.

In San Francisco they had their first breakthrough when Carmen met one of the animal-feeder coven's conquests. Carlisle's confused look at the word "conquest" made her laugh. "It seems they love not only vampire men, but human men as well. So they don't feed on them. But it was a vampire who noticed our eyes and told us of this coven. They are a bit of a journey from here."

Without hesitation, they began the journey north as soon as their fortunes were secured with Wells Fargo. Carlisle had saved the daughter of the San Francisco branch vice-president in a near-tragic delivery. Carlisle's steady hands and calming influence resulted in a healthy baby boy and the mother survived and was well enough to return to public life within four months. Her father pledged his eternal loyalty to Carlisle and assured the party that their assets would be well guarded while they were traveling.

Carmen returned to their train car while Carlisle was sitting next to the window and writing in his atlas. "Writing, writing, writing! Always writing, my Carlisle!" Carmen laughed as she brushed snow from her shoulders and hair. "Most of your luggage is full of books of your writing!"

Carlisle smiled and kept scribbling. "Most of yours are full of your paintings, my dear."

Carmen laughed. "Touché, my Carlisle! I wish you would write me some more music. I love to dance with Eleazar to your compositions."

Carlisle chuckled. "Next time I am inspired you will be the first to benefit."

Carlisle had never known a more contented period in his vampire existence. With friends to travel with Carlisle could work and relax and life was full and happy. He did not count his fifteen years with Raisa. He tried not to think of that at all.

In Boston Eleazar had told Carlisle that Raisa had returned to her home in Siberia and assumed that because she was so far from both human and vampire civilization that she could do as she pleased. She created an eternal child. Unfortunately, Aro was still bent on revenge and sent his best tracker, Demetri, after her. As soon as he discovered Raisa and the child, Caius descended with several members of the Guard and disposed of them both.

Raisa knew what she was planning to do would have put Carlisle in danger, and she would never have allowed that. She had been trying to push Carlisle back toward what she knew was his mission in life, but she was also trying to protect him from her gamble. In the end that was what mattered most to her; he had to accept that.

Eleazar and Carmen knew that they had devastated Carlisle with the news they brought, and they insisted that he accompany them. It took five years for Carlisle to extract himself from all of his commitments in Boston, and even then the Boston coven protested his departure. Siobhan was very sad to see him go. But she soon transformed her "pet," Maggie, and they left for Ireland right after Carlisle finally departed from Boston.

"I sincerely hope we meet again, Carlisle," Siobhan said with a smile. Maggie's red curls bounced as she threw her arms around Carlisle.

Carlisle hugged Maggie back and smiled at Siobhan. "If you wish it, Siobhan, I'm sure it will come true."

Siobhan rolled her eyes, but then laughed a hearty Irish laugh. "Be careful up north, your thin British blood may not be able to handle the chill six months into winter."

Carlisle chuckled. "Safe travels to you both."

The newly formed coven of animal-feeders moved up to the frozen and eternally cloud-covered latitudes of Canada. The hunting was unparalleled, and living in such sparsely populated areas made life easier for Eleazar who was learning quickly how to control his instincts, but still needed a wide berth. Carmen had a few more years experience than Eleazar, but her demeanor was so calm that she handled the stress and pain of exposure to humans with composure that impressed Carlisle.

Eleazar met Carmen on a trip back to his home in Seville. She had suffered since she was a child from a blood malady which made her constantly fatigued and her skin turn yellow. When one of Eleazar's original coven tried to feed on her he found her blood so distasteful he stopped feeding before she died. Her heart was weak from her long illness but she survived. When she awoke from her transformation and discovered for the first time in her life she was whole and healthy she embraced her vampire life. Her adventurous soul had been confined for twenty years to her private chambers painting the scenery outside her window, but now the world was open to her.

Her happiness, however, was short-lived and she quickly became disturbed by feeding. She experimented with feeding on animals, and found she had a natural gift for control around humans, but the other vampires of the coven tried to convince her that their way was the natural way. She went back to feeding on humans but the tone of her paintings betrayed her distress.

When Eleazar returned to visit the coven, seventy-five years after Carmen was changed, the elders told him of their troubled new vampire. Eleazar and Carmen were distantly related through the same noble family though they were five hundred years apart, and both were educated and cultured. They also connected over their dissatisfaction with feeding on humans and their burning attraction.

Carmen accompanied Eleazar back to Volterra but Eleazar soon discovered what had happened to Carlisle and the subsequent murder of Raisa. Those offenses in addition to centuries of revulsion for the manner in which the Volturi upheld the law that he passionately believed in caused him to finally throw his Volturi necklace back at Aro. When Felix tried to bar the exit Eleazar smiled.

"Do you know how I sense the abilities of vampires, Felix? When I am close to a gifted vampire I absorb a sample of their power. It's just a small sample, but it is enough for me to _feel_ what it is like to be that vampire." Felix looked uncertainly at Aro as Eleazar grinned broadly at him. "Do you recall what it felt like, for example, when Carlisle would _push_ his power outward?" Then Eleazar lifted his hand and unleashed a small, focused wave of power at Felix. It was just enough to disorient Felix and allow Eleazar and Carmen to escape. Eleazar swore to Carlisle that he heard Aro laughing until they were miles outside the city. Eleazar had also sampled enough of Demetri's tracking ability to get a sense of which part of the world Carlisle had moved to.

Now Eleazar walked into the train car with a troubled expression marring his chiseled face.

"What is it mi amore?" Carmen placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

Eleazar looked at Carmen and then at Carlisle. "Some days are easier than others, but I am starting to get worried."

Carlisle sighed. "Eleazar, as I have told you hundreds of times, you have the strength, it is more about finding the will."

Eleazar shook his head. "No, Carlisle," he whispered very quietly, "I am worried that there is more going on here. I am worried that Aro has been disposing of the animal-feeders."

Carlisle was completely shocked. "For thousands of years? Complete genocide?"

Eleazar shrugged, "That is their policy against the eternal children. Why not us?"

Carlisle shook his head, "Because the eternal children are a threat. Animal-feeders are _not_ a threat. They can't be, there are so few of us!"

Eleazar nodded, "I see your point, but what other explanation could there be?"

"I don't know, Eleazar, but we will keep on looking for answers." Carlisle put a hand on Eleazar's shoulder and then forced a smile. Carlisle also had a strange new feeling growing in his gut that he could not identify. The closest he could come to describing it was: fear.

"My boys should relax! The coven will be there. They were seen as recently as two years ago. They were happy and healthy. They will be there when we arrive." Carmen smiled at both of them and leaned over Carlisle and flipped through his atlas.

They traveled by train all the way to Unalaska, and then they went north by carriage. The territory had been settled by Russian fur traders since the 1730s, and there were small settlements dotting the main trail.

They were barely 100 miles away from Denali when they decided to stop to hunt. Carlisle was just finishing off a deer he had captured when he heard a giggle behind him. He knew instantly it was not Carmen's laugh. Suddenly, he felt an iron grip on his throat and slim arms and legs encasing his body in a deadly grip.

"Who are you? Why have you come here?!" The vampire hissed angrily.

"We came here seeking a coven which feeds only on animals," Carlisle said calmly with his hands up, making no move to resist her hold.

She tightened that hold causing Carlisle to grunt against the pain. "You were sent by Aro, weren't you?"

"No, we weren't. We are not with the Volturi." Carlisle could hear Eleazar and Carmen approaching cautiously. "My two companions are here; please, let me introduce them. They will not hurt you."

The girl lifted her nose and sniffed the air. "You are all animal-feeders?"

"Yes. That is why we came to find you. I do not know what the Volturi did to you, but I can assure you, we only wanted to meet you." Eleazar and Carmen appeared then just behind Carlisle and approached slowly. "This is Eleazar and Carmen."

Carmen stepped forward. "We mean you no harm, Señorita. Were we rightly informed? Are you alone or do you have a coven?"

The young girl finally released her hold on Carlisle. She stood next to him, and was at least six inches shorter than the tall vampire. She had long curly strawberry blonde hair, was lean and clothed in fur-trimmed pants and a long parka. "My name is Tanya. I came to meet you alone because I had to find out who… I was so sure only a Volturi could exude such…" Tanya shook her head and stared at Carlisle.

"…Power." Eleazar finished her sentence. He smiled kindly as she turned toward him and nodded. "Carlisle confounds all of us, even the Volturi," Eleazar could not suppress a chuckle.

Tanya turned to Carlisle, her eyes wide with wonder. "You defeated Aro?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No, I am not a warrior. I do not wish anyone harm."

Tanya looked a little dazed and took a slight step backward, and then looked toward Eleazar, who nodded. "I felt it too. Our Carlisle does not realize how he affects the rest of us."

Tanya looked at Carlisle with wonder. "I haven't felt anything like you since Aro."

Carlisle looked back at this young woman with sympathy. "When did you face Aro?"

Tanya grimaced and recoiled slightly. Carmen stepped forward and put a gentle hand on the woman's arm. "We can discuss this later. May we meet the rest of your coven? We would like to get to know all of you."

Tanya gave Carmen a slight smile. "Come with me. I left them without any indication of where I was going. They will be worried if I'm gone much longer."

The house was situated a few miles from the nearby town of Denali. It was three stories tall and had very steep gables to keep the snow from collecting on the eaves, was surrounded by very tall pines that nearly obstructed the view from the road, and warm firelight glowed in the windows as they approached. They were met just inside the entry hall by two perturbed female vampires. But when Carlisle walked into the hall they seemed to understand.

"This is Carmen, Eleazar and Carlisle." Tanya announced with some pride. "I met them in the forest because I thought they were coming for us."

Carlisle smiled. "We are delighted to make your acquaintance."

The smaller sister with chin-length silvery blonde hair eyed Carlisle suspiciously, "So then you are not from…"

Carlisle put up a hand, "No. Eleazar and I both spent time in Volterra and we know Aro. But we are NOT Volturi."

"Then why did you come to find us?" The third sister had the longest straight blonde hair and put an arm around her sister.

Eleazar bowed slightly to the sisters. "We are all animal-feeders. We have been searching the country to find others like us. You are the first we have found."

The sister with the long straight hair looked back at Eleazar then to Carmen and Carlisle. "I am Katrina, and this is Irina. Please, excuse our apprehension. When you hear our story you will understand." Her eyes swept over to Tanya and she led Irina over to the couches in the parlor. The others followed, and Tanya and Carmen sat on the second couch, while Carlisle and Eleazar stood by the fire.

"There have been others?" Tanya whispered as she looked back at Carlisle.

Carlisle regarded her sympathetically. "Well, right now, we are the only ones that we know of. Most of the others have disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Katrina said sadly.

"How long have you abstained from drinking human blood?" Eleazar said.

None of the girls answered immediately, but Tanya eventually looked up. "Nearly three hundred years."

Carlisle's eyes became wider. "You have had no human blood in three hundred years?"

"Well, really only exclusively for the last one hundred and fifty. We came to this conclusion slowly. It started with our mother." Irina said, but then Tanya and Katrina stared at the floor.

Carlisle knew instantly they had touched a nerve and looked at them sympathetically. "What happened to her?"

Tanya appeared too upset to tell the story so Katrina looked at Carlisle and explained. "She changed all of us in Slovakia over five hundred years ago. We all traveled together. We built this house and enjoyed the travelers and humans we found. Over time we talked more and more about our feelings for the human men we were taking. Then our mother told us about how the vampires in the wastelands of the north subsisted on animals in times when humans were scarce. We decided to try it. We found that we could control our thirst when we fed on animals, and still enjoy men without killing them."

Then, Katrina's face darkened. "But one day our mother started leaving us for extended periods of time. When we asked her what she was doing she said she was merely investigating some reports of activity by the Children of the Moon. We were all frightened by the possibility of werewolves in the area, but she said she was taking care of it, so we did not ask for more explanation from her. Until… they came for her."

"Why? What brought them here?" Eleazar whispered. Carlisle's eyes narrowed.

Irina continued the story. "They came without warning, demanding to see her. She had returned that morning, and they kept shouting, 'Where is the child? Where is the child!?' Finally, she led them across the snow to another house she had constructed, one which we had never seen. Inside was a child vampire."

Carlisle leaned against the mantel and looked away from Irina. Tanya watched Carlisle's body language and realized he knew how the story ended. "You have seen this before?" she said quietly as her voice hitched.

"A very dear friend of mine." Carlisle nodded, his voice heavy with pain. Tanya stood up and put her arms around Carlisle and laid her head on his chest and they took comfort in each other.

"Aro and Caius were tracking the Children of the Moon across Russia and into Alaska. Our mother had found the child in a caravan that had been attacked by the wolves. He was dying, so she transformed him. And then, Caius found them. We watched them burn," Kate said with a flat tone. Tanya hid her face in Carlisle's shirt. Carmen stood up and sat between the other two girls and pulled their heads to her shoulders.

Eleazar sat down on the couch Carmen had vacated and shook his head. "We learned about the death of our friend years after it happened. We are very sorry for your loss."

The girls all looked at Eleazar. Tanya finally let go of Carlisle and looked up at him, then at Eleazar and Carmen. "You are all welcome to stay as long as you wish."

The Denali Coven was older than Carlisle, but younger than Eleazar and Carmen, who easily fell into older sibling roles for the young girls, though Tanya remained the head of the household. Tanya was eighteen, and Katrina and Irina were both seventeen. Eleazar was twenty-one and Carmen was twenty. Carmen in particular became quite attached to Irina, and soon it was clear that the bonds forming among the animal-feeders were growing stronger than they had expected. Carlisle theorized that they were free from the emotional baggage of bloodlust, and that made their relationships easier and more tied to affection than convenience.

Soon the Denali coven extended a permanent invitation to their visitors and Eleazar and Carmen declared they wished to stay. Carlisle, however, was more reserved. He knew that the girls all cared deeply for him, especially Tanya. Tanya was in awe of Carlisle, but he very carefully kept her at a distance. Carmen reassured him, "You make her feel safe. She thinks of you as an older brother."

Carlisle appreciated how much they all wanted him to stay, but something inside him also was pulling him away. Tanya confronted him in the study one evening. "Why must you go?" Tanya asked him sadly.

Carlisle looked up at her narrow golden eyes and sighed. "I'm not sure I can explain to you fully my connection to humans. I feel compelled to help them."

"There are humans here that need your help." Tanya said somewhat petulantly.

Carlisle smiled. "I appreciate that, truly. But there is some kind of sickness that is taking hold in the nearby villages. I can feel that there is a serious tragedy coming. I must go, soon, if I am to help them."

Tanya looked over at Carlisle with wide eyes again. "You're doing it again."

Carlisle bowed his head slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't even know what I'm doing."

"It's okay, Carlisle, I think I needed to feel that again from you to remember. You really are meant for more than hiding in the wilderness with us." She put a hand on his arm. "Just promise you won't forget us."

Carlisle took her hand in his. "You are my only family, Tanya. I will think all of you every day."

The following week, the coven got word that people in Denali were dying. Carlisle left immediately to help at the local clinic and found that it was a respiratory illness that led to pneumonia and death by sepsis within a few days. When Carlisle returned to the coven they knew it was to say farewell.

"Please come back soon." Tanya sobbed openly.

"I promise." Carlisle hugged her back. Every coven member embraced Carlisle in turn; Eleazar was last.

"My friend, I wish you would reconsider. But I know you won't." Eleazar could not muster up one of his characteristic grins, but forced a sad smile.

Carlisle put a hand on Eleazar's shoulder. "You have been my one true friend, Eleazar, since I was changed. And you also are my oldest friend, by over one hundred years." That got them both laughing, and they hugged as brothers. Carlisle smiled. "We'll meet again soon. I'm not planning to leave the continent anytime in the near future." He turned to Tanya and the others. "Check your post at the Denali Office. I will write."

Early one afternoon Carlisle rode into a small port about 800 miles north of San Francisco. His horse was getting tired, and Carlisle needed to wash his clothes. It had taken a couple of months for him to ride about 2,500 miles down the coast with stops along the way to warn the settlements he passed about the coming epidemic. It had not spread very far into Canada yet, but he had seen a few cases as he rode south following the coast.

Carlisle checked into the local hotel and then inquired about any physicians in town and found that, as usual, there was only one. Sometimes there were none for miles.

When Carlisle told his harrowing tale to the local physician he looked sadly back at Carlisle. "Doctor Cullen, the plague you are talking of is already in Port Angeles. Trains move faster than you on your horse."

"Where is it concentrated? Where have there been the most deaths?" Carlisle said anxiously.

"There's a small settlement a few miles west, at the fork of the Quillayute and Bogachiel rivers. I know the physician there, Worthington is his name. I'm sure he needs help, but I have a family, Doctor Cullen. I can't go there right now." Carlisle nodded sympathetically at the man's conflicted expression. "I'm thankful you are able to go, but be careful, Doctor. There are a lot of Indians in that area." Even though he was talking to an over six-foot tall, muscular man he still felt the need to warn Carlisle. Carlisle thanked him and coaxed his tired horse to ride west.

When he arrived at the settlement he saw a small wooden sign with neatly painted letters that said "_River Forks_." Carlisle smiled to himself. It had a practical ring to it. The sign was set up just outside the main strip of tiny crude shops. Some were hastily constructed with freshly cut wood, and some were merely tents. Most of the shops were just as practical as the name of the small settlement and sold fishing and camping gear, fixed wagons and offered grain alcohol.

Carlisle stopped at the first sign that said "Dentist/Surgeon/Physic/Opium." He walked into the tiny wooden shack, which was actually in better condition than most of the shops. Carlisle was immediately aware of the bloodstains that streaked the floor and pooled by the table in the corner. He could even perceive the smell of recent death. The building appeared to be deserted, but Carlisle could hear a human breathing slowly in the back room. He was asleep.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Carlisle called loudly enough to wake the sleeping man. A few seconds later a man of average height, in his early forties and balding, stumbled through the doorway, pulling his suspenders up as he walked in.

"What is it? Has something happened at the clinic? I just laid down a few minutes ago…" He was mildly irritated, but was clearly concerned that something had happened in his absence.

Carlisle bowed slightly. "My name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen. I'm here to lend you a hand."

"Oh, my God. You're joking?" A look of pure relief and joy grew in the tired man's face.

Carlisle nodded. "I followed this epidemic down from Denali and the peninsula. I've been trying to warn settlements on the leading edge, but it seems it has already passed me. I heard you have been hit hard." Carlisle said with great compassion.

The small man stepped forward and eagerly grasped Carlisle's hand. "My word, you're frozen through. I'm James Worthington, born and educated in Madison, Wisconsin. Come with me to the hotel; let's get you a room and a warm meal and I will tell you what has happened." They started walking and Carlisle untied his horse as James talked. "The first case was brought to my attention a week ago. It was an older man who was panning in the rivers, and he said he was at the saloon when a traveler came in for a shot of whiskey and sneezed on him. The next day he had a high fever, and a cough. Two days later, he was dead from pneumonia, and I had three more cases. In just this week ten have died, and two have recovered. I have ordered that all contact with natives must be avoided, no trading, because we have caused deaths among the natives before with these epidemics." They had tied Carlisle's horse at the hotel and entered the small establishment. It was two stories and had ten rooms. At the front desk the manager greeted them with a smile. "This is Doctor Cullen," Worthington informed him with some relish. "He's here to help with our crisis. Give him your best room at one-third price, please."

The manager seized Carlisle's hand. "Thank you for coming, sir. I've kept my wife and daughter at home, I'm so worried." He smiled. "I'd take your coat but you are still freezing from outside. Here is your key, you are room two at the top of the stairs."

"We are going for a quick meal and then to the clinic tent," James said to the manager quickly.

Carlisle shook his head. "I actually ate while I was riding in, let's drop my packs and go now."

James led Carlisle to a double tent with fur insulation to keep the patients warm. It was the end of February, so there was no snow on the ground but the winds were frigid and unforgiving. There were seventeen patients at that moment, and three were clearly dying. Their lungs were full of fluid, and Carlisle was certain one lung had an abscess. Carlisle drained the pus, but he found another two hours later. It was clear that he would not find all of the abscesses, and the patient died that night.

As Carlisle carried the man to the nearby graveyard he heard a horse approaching from miles away. But the hoof sounds were not coming from the road, but from the wilderness. When Carlisle got back to the clinic tent, the horse neared the camp, and Carlisle realized who it was. He rushed forward.

"Stop! Please! We have an emergency here! You will become ill if you don't leave!" Carlisle ran toward the horse but then realized that not only was there a native American chief riding the horse, he was carrying an ill child. "My God, the illness has reached your village?"

The chief stared at Carlisle. Carlisle wondered if the chief spoke English. "Do you understand me?"

The chief's eyes were now wide, and he lifted a finger and pointed at Carlisle. "You are… a _Cold One_!"

Carlisle's jaw dropped. It had been decades since anyone had even come close to recognizing him. He put up his hands and put on his most sympathetic face. "Listen to me, please. I am a physician. I _help_ humans." Then he whispered, "I only feed on animals." The chief stared at him, and held the child close to him. "Please, let me help you. You may stay with the child the whole time. Stay and witness what I am doing here. _Please_."

The chief stared at Carlisle, and Carlisle recognized the expression that people got when they were feeling the effect of his powers, but the chief was not frightened. He actually seemed a little calmer. He put the child over his shoulder, and then swung his leg over and dismounted his horse. He would not hand the child to the Cold One, but he was willing to follow Carlisle into the tent.

The chief never allowed Carlisle to be alone with his son while they stayed in the clinic. He observed everything Carlisle did, and he did not sleep for the two days it took for the child to recover. The child liked Carlisle and played peek-a-boo with him every time Carlisle passed the bed. The boy did not know English and they taught each other many words and phrases. The chief looked on somewhat approvingly, but did not participate. When they finally left on the third day Carlisle handed the boy up to his father. The chief still frowned at Carlisle, but nodded. "Thank you, Cull-en."

The boy waved. "Good bye, Cold One!" The chief hushed his son and then turned the horse back toward the tribe lands.

Carlisle waved until the little boy turned toward the direction they were riding. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath of relief, but there were so many unanswered questions. How had the chief recognized him? What vampires had the tribes encountered who had revealed themselves to them? And even more intriguing, why did these tribesmen smell different? Carlisle had had contact with other races and people, but humans for the most part smelled the same. This chief and his son smelled… different. Carlisle had one more concern: he had been recognized, and the chief now knew his name. Carlisle was certain he was flirting with breaking the rules. He smiled slightly thinking of Caius's ire. Somehow, however, Carlisle did not fear that the chief was going to expose him, or even spread word of what he had seen.

When Carlisle finally left, after the epidemic had passed, Carlisle realized what in impact this small place had had on him. He rode along the coast and breathed in the salty ocean spray and looked up at the tree line, marveling in the beauty of the enormous eagles overhead.

The epidemic spread east, however, and after concluding his affairs in San Francisco he took the railroad east and began his first trip across the United States of America.


	16. Chapter 14: 1863

CHAPTER 14

~~1863~~

Like most vampires, Carlisle took little notice of the daily drama of human politics because the climate changed so rapidly without any meaningful lasting effects. However, he was acutely aware of any political events that increased the suffering of humans, especially war. He had considered trying to serve in the military once or twice as he became more and more attached to his adopted country, but he could never find a way to do it without putting himself in situations that would surely lead to exposure.

Suddenly, however, Carlisle found himself completely enamored with national politics with the election of Abraham Lincoln. It was the first time he had actually voted because he had never seen a politician who seemed so dedicated to reducing human suffering. Carlisle found it tragic and providential that Lincoln was elected just in time for a war. Carlisle was living in Fairfield, Pennsylvania, and working with an older physician who was heading for retirement at the local hospital. Dr. Finnegan was always talking about Lincoln, and drew Carlisle in with stories of Lincoln's speeches during the 1858 debates.

"I never read a speech that explained so perfectly the definition of human dignity. That man was sent by God." Dr. Finnegan would often get misty-eyed, and with good reason. His son was an officer with the Army of the Potomac, and was now embroiled in the conflict of the Eastern Theater. Finnegan was very close to his son, and was taking care of his son's wife and five boys during his absence.

Carlisle was known as the "albino" doctor, which helped make sure that he would not be expected to go outside during the daytime, or serve in the military. The story also helped feed the general feeling that he was an outsider, which unfortunately isolated him but also kept probing minds at a safe distance. The Finnegan family, however, embraced him because of how much he was helping the older doctor serve the community which was desperately in need of health care while most of the local physicians were at war. They did find the fact that he refused to eat meals with them a bit strange, but appreciated that he was perfectly amiable, and the Finnegan boys adored him.

Over the years Carlisle had developed a bit of an aversion to children, especially after his experiences in Volterra. Human children, in addition, needed too much physical contact, they asked awkward questions about his cold skin and amber eyes, and they were not always convinced by his explanations. However, children were also honest, and saw things for what they were; and they all knew that Carlisle was a good person, and were drawn to him because they knew he would empathize with them.

Finnegan's oldest grandson was a quiet, highly intelligent seven year-old, and he would often come and observe his grandfather as he worked. Finnegan was certain that young Alexander would follow in his footsteps, and he took the boy under his wing.

"My son is a very charismatic man," Dr. Finnegan mused. "He is outgoing and lively, but Alexander is not. He is more like his mother. I think sometimes he is really intimidated by his father. He knows his father is a good man, but they do not relate to each other at all." Thus, Alexander spent many hours around his grandfather and Carlisle as they worked.

Carlisle liked Alexander's inquisitive nature and innate ability to understand the human body. He would often instruct Alexander on pathophysiology of disease.

"Were you a teacher before, Doctor Cullen?" Alexander asked one evening.

Carlisle smiled down at his young student. "Why do you ask?"

Alexander shrugged. "You are patient, and you explain things very well. You remind me of my teacher, before he left to fight."

Carlisle's smile faded as Alexander frowned and looked away. "It will be okay, son. This conflict cannot last forever."

Alexander looked back up at Carlisle. "Will you stay if my dad doesn't come home?"

Carlisle smiled again. "Alexander, I have my own family up north and they have asked me to return home when the war is over. I cannot stay forever." Alexander nodded but he looked away and pulled his lip in. Carlisle assured him, "While I'm here, you can come to me whenever you need anything that your mother or your grandfather can't help you with."

Alexander looked back at Carlisle and nodded with a small smile. "I hope my father gets to meet you."

Carlisle smiled again. "I hope so too."

The spring of 1863 came and went and the summer months became oppressively hot and dry in Pennsylvania. The war raged on, and Dr. Finnegan was constantly reading the newspapers for any shred of information about the status of the battles. As his obsession for searching for news deepened, Carlisle took on more responsibility, and the hospital staff depended on him more and more for leadership. In late June he found Dr. Finnegan looking out his office window at his grandsons playing in the grass outside the hospital. "Lee is headed straight for us. There will be a battle near here, and troops in our lands." He turned to Carlisle, his eyes full of tears. "The war is on our doorstep. We are about to get very busy."

On the morning of July 1st the skies opened up and the boys were nervous because they were hoping for good weather for Independence Day; but the entire town was thankful for the rain quenching the thirst of their summer crops. Alexander was reading in Dr. Finnegan's office and Carlisle was quietly working on his charts while the storm thundered outside. But not even the thunder could drown out the sound of cannons. Carlisle looked up from his paperwork in the direction of the fire. It was west of them, and about ten miles away. His gaze slid over to Alexander, and the boy was already staring at him with wide eyes. He understood exactly what was going on.

Carlisle took Alexander's hand and started down the hall to find Dr. Finnegan, but Finnegan found him. "Dr. Finnegan!" he called the moment the other man was in sight, "I'm going to drive Alexander home!"

Finnegan shook his head. "No Carlisle, trust me, this hospital is now the safest place for Alexander to be, and with cannon fire so close, I wish my entire family was here. Come with me. We must prepare for the wounded who are about to land in our beds."

The staff moved all of the beds in the ward to accommodate dozens of patients on the floor. Sheets were torn into bandages. All of the surgical instruments were cleaned. Aro's instrument set was about to be put to good use.

Alexander was given water duty, walking around with a bucket and ladle, giving water to any patients or staff who were thirsty. "But I want to work for YOU!" he said to Carlisle in a determined voice.

Carlisle shook his head as he knelt down to look Alexander in the eye. "I will be in surgery, son. That is too bloody and too disturbing for you to imagine. Please, do this task, it is an essential thing, and everyone you give water will thank you." Alexander frowned and his lower lip was jutted out slightly, but he finally nodded.

One hour later the wounded began to arrive, and eighteen hours later Carlisle had been operating for the entire time. The nurses had switched shifts twice on him already. He knew he could go for days, and he fully intended to make sure that as many of the soldiers as possible did not lose their limbs. His vascular surgery techniques were far more advanced than any of his colleagues in town.

One of his patients was struggling as Carlisle tried to repair a femoral artery injury, and his assistant was trying to hold the leg steady and the tourniquet tight. "HOLD HIM DOWN!" Carlisle barked over the patient's screams. Carlisle thought of Moreau and he smiled slightly as his fingers deftly threw the stitches faster and faster.

Suddenly, he heard a tiny gasp behind him, and Carlisle turned. "Alexander! You should not be here!" The boy's eyes were wide as he took in the scene of the operating room, then he turned and ran away. Carlisle immediately turned back to his patient, and finished the repair. He would go and find Alexander when he was able.

Another eight hours later, Carlisle finally left the operating room. He had saved eighteen patient's lives, and twelve limbs from amputation, and operated for over twenty-six hours before he allowed the less experienced relief surgeons to fix the lacerations and some simple bullet extractions.

Carlisle used his sensitive nose to find Alexander hiding in a linen closet sound asleep. Carlisle gently lifted the slim little boy and carried him to his grandfather's office. As Carlisle laid Alexander onto the small couch in the corner his eyes fluttered open.

"Are you mad at me Dr. Cullen?" Alexander whispered.

Carlisle shook his head. "No, Alexander, I could never be mad at you. But, you shouldn't be in the operating room when I am working."

Alexander frowned. "I wasn't scared. I wanted to help you."

Carlisle smiled at Alexander's brave frown. "I promise that when I need help that you will be the first person I ask."

Alexander looked up at Carlisle and smiled, then nodded. "Okay."

Suddenly, there was gunfire very nearby and Carlisle pulled Alexander off the couch and flipped it over, shoving Alexander underneath it. "Listen to me! Stay in this room, and don't come out from under here unless your grandfather or I come and get you, do you understand? Don't talk to anyone else!"

Alexander's eyes were wide with fear but he nodded just as there was another burst of gunfire. Carlisle got up and ran out into the hall. Dr. Finnegan was headed toward him. "There is a union convoy under attack! They are less than a mile from here!"

Carlisle put a hand on his shoulder, "Keep everyone calm in here. I will make certain no harm reaches the hospital."

Carlisle was headed for the entrance when a union soldier with a head wound came running inside. "Our lieutenant was hit! We need help to get him to the hospital!"

Carlisle called back to Dr. Finnegan, "I'll take the wagon! Keep everyone inside!"

Carlisle and the soldier drove through the pouring rain toward the conflict but could not even get close with the wagon and had to leave it behind a farmhouse. The group covering the injured lieutenant was behind the farm's barn under heavy fire. The soldier was completely at a loss as to how to reach his comrades.

Carlisle could see that there was no other way; he was going to have to retrieve the wounded officer himself. "Soldier, cover me, I'm going to go and get your lieutenant."

"Doctor, are you a former soldier?" the young man said nervously.

"Just cover me, and don't shoot me!" Carlisle immediately ran at his top human speed across the field toward the barn. The confederate soldiers got off four shots as he ran and Carlisle easily dodged all of them. The stunned men watched Carlisle assess their commander right on the field. The lieutenant had a slow bleed, but the larger problem was that a bullet had shattered his humerus. Three other soldiers had been killed. Carlisle looked up at the three remaining men. He could not leave them there.

One by one he ran each of the exhausted soldiers, through mud that pulled their boots off their feet, from the barn to the farmhouse while the group behind the barn fired steadily. When the last man jumped into the wagon with Carlisle, the soldier who had come with him from the hospital whipped up the horses and they escaped. The other union troops involved in the nearby skirmish retreated and the confederates claimed the road at Fairfield, but the shooting ended.

The men were all tended to at the hospital. Alexander brought food and water to the traumatized men. Carlisle went directly to surgery and tried desperately to save the lieutenant's arm, but the damage to the bone was far too extensive. When Carlisle finally moved the lieutenant to recovery, he went to check on Alexander and found him happily helping bandage some minor wounds on some of the soldiers. When Carlisle appeared they stood up and saluted him.

"Thank you," said one of the men who had been pinned down by the barn. He was barely older than sixteen.

Carlisle frowned. "If it weren't for you, your lieutenant never would have made it."

Alexander was smiling broadly up at Carlisle. He could see in the boy's eyes a shine that he had never seen before. People had looked at Carlisle with awe, wonder, fear and hatred at various times, but never before had Carlisle seen anyone look at him with pure love and admiration – except Anton. He was assaulted by the memories of his long buried love for his first son and he stood there stunned for a moment. Carlisle had held Alexander at a distance, never allowing himself to even dream of being a father-figure, but he realized that he already was. He finally reached out and patted Alexander on the back. Alexander smiled.

Two weeks later Carlisle was working an afternoon shift, when Alexander arrived with a tall man in an impressive union uniform. Carlisle instantly knew who the man was and finished up his task so he could go and greet them.

He finally met them in Dr. Finnegan's office and extended his hand to Alexander's father. "It is an honor to meet you, sir."

Commander Finnegan flinched slightly at Carlisle's cold hand, but shook it firmly. "James Finnegan, and the honor is mine. Alexander can't stop telling me stories of working with you and my father." He had a very smooth, deep voice, and was clearly proud of his son. He was perfectly cordial, but could not hide his jealousy of the time Carlisle was spending with his family.

Carlisle decided it was time for a well-placed lie. "Alexander speaks of you constantly. He has been looking for your return every day."

Commander Finnegan smiled at Carlisle and knew he was trying to make him feel better. "Do you have a family, Dr. Cullen?"

Carlisle's brow creased as his memories took hold again. Then he shook his head. "No."

Commander Finnegan looked over at his son who was playing with his grandfather, and he sighed. "Having children is the most heartbreaking experience of your life." He turned back to Carlisle. "You would give your life for them, but you may never really know them, and they may never really know you."

Carlisle's cold heart ached slightly watching the Commander's eyes.

He stayed in Fairfield until the end of the war and then when some of the doctors who went to war returned to resume their practices he decided to go back and visit Denali. Alexander could not hold back the tears as he hugged Carlisle good-bye with his father looking on. "Dr. Cullen, thank you for taking care of us."

Carlisle knelt down and looked at the child's tear-stained face. "Alexander, you have been the best assistant I've ever had." Alexander managed to smile. "And you have been a very good friend. You have to help out your grandfather and your father too. You have a lot of responsibility. Make me proud."

Alexander nodded, "Yes, sir."

The entire time he was in Denali Eleazar noted that Carlisle's despondent mood could not be broken. Carlisle realized that he was really wasn't still grieving for Anton and Raisa. He was not ready to be a father when he was with them, and the bizarre idea of fathering a child who would never grow up had made him regret that Raisa ever became attached to Anton. But he had buried his guilt over those feelings with his grief when they were gone. His friendship with Alexander had been different, and left him in anguish because for the first time he desperately wished that he could be a father. And because of the biologically stagnant reality of being a vampire, he never would be.

~~1911~~

Carlisle sat at his small wooden desk in the corner of the main ward of Riverside Methodist Hospital in Columbus. He had started the job two years before with an old classmate from Dartmouth Medical School just after they finished residency together, but this was the beginning of his last month in town because he was planning to move to a less sunny climate. He was tired of working mostly nights and wanted to see daylight again. He had accepted a position in Chicago, and anticipated a few more cloudy days there.

The start of the evening had been rather busy. There were several victims of a mill factory accident that required emergency surgery. Carlisle's speed and precision with his hands had saved the lives of two men. The other physicians had always been a little stand-offish because they were constantly in awe of his skill, but they were also naturally unaware that he had been practicing for about two hundred years at that point and had done over one hundred and thirty thousand surgeries: everything from suturing wounds to neurosurgery. So, his old classmate from Dartmouth, who knew his eccentricities better, was the only one who he associated with with any regularity.

The last few decades Carlisle had allowed the darkness of loneliness to seep in a little. He did not try to change his melancholic manner because as a defense mechanism it had helped keep most humans at bay, which protected his identity. The change in his personality had bothered the Denali clan, and they were worried about him. Eventually Carlisle had tired of their attempts to lift his spirits and he had left again. He decided that it was time to update his education and landed in Dartmouth, and then Columbus.

With the early evening crisis past, a quiet calm had settled on the hospital. People were carrying out their duties, and the nurses patrolled the rows and halls like sentries. Despite the strict discipline of their ranks, they never failed to linger by the desk of the mysteriously attractive doctor if he dared to not look completely occupied for even a moment.

Carlisle had not quite gotten used to the change in decorum between human men and women that had come with the turn of the century. As human social rules shifted over many lifetimes he'd had to constantly readjust his behavior. The expanding independence and public consciousness of twentieth century women impressed Carlisle to no end, but he was increasingly unsure about social boundaries. He sometimes became quite flustered with how to handle some women's aggressive advances. Their behavior sometimes reminded him of eighteenth century French noble women who were free to treat men of lower rank as they wished. Now, however, women of any rank were willing to approach him and he'd realized that over time that he had actually had very little practice in speaking to human women who were not patients. He had met a few daughters and mothers of his human acquaintances, known only a handful of female vampires, and had almost never had an extended conversation with an un-chaperoned human woman.

Carlisle was gradually learning how to talk to women much less formally, and with that practice he had been recently reminded how apparently impressive his presence was. Carlisle had always known that women were attracted to him, but he'd recently observed that if he used his smile at opportune moments, women's heart rates would climb and he could ask them to do anything for him. He recognized this as a significant power, and very carefully reserved it for special needs, and only for things that benefited the patients. He never had any intention of using people for his own benefit, so he kept a very careful distance between himself and the women he worked with. Some women appreciated his "traditional" style, which he merely thought was respectful; but he observed that not all men kept as respectful a distance as he did. This particular hospital had relatively young nurses, and many times he had heard their heart rates go up if he simply entered a room. Before he realized they were reacting to him he'd felt like he was constantly asking the nurses if they were all right, concerned they were becoming ill. They also whispered about him quite a bit, and with his excellent hearing he knew exactly how they thought about him. He found it somewhat disconcerting.

Carlisle pretended at his desk to be checking over notes from the previous shift, but some of the nurses were drifting closer, so he closed his charts, and decided to take a walk before they realized he was reading a blank sheet of paper. Just as he stood up, however, a very young nurse ran up to him.

"Dr. Cullen!" She blushed slightly when she said his name.

He gave her a small, careful smile, "Yes, Nurse Fallon?"

She turned a deeper shade of red, "I…um, I have a patient for you. She broke her leg on her family farm two hours ago, and her father just drove her in."

Carlisle dropped his charts on his desk. "Was it a femur or a compound fracture? How is her blood pressure?" He motioned for her to lead the way.

"No, doctor, she actually does not appear to be in very much distress. It looks like a simple tibia fracture, but she's already quite swollen so I can't be sure." Nurse Fallon grinned broadly at one of the other nurses who squinted and frowned back at her.

Carlisle followed her to the examination rooms and pulled back the curtain indicated.

A middle-aged gentleman stood nervously holding his hat in one hand, and in the other hand he held the small white hand of his teen-aged daughter. She had long tumbling golden-brown curls, a heart shaped face, large blue eyes, and a wide smile that betrayed her youth. Carlisle was quite surprised to see that she was actually smiling.

The middle-aged man nodded to Carlisle. "Doctor, my name is John Platt, and this is my daughter, Miss Esme Platt."

Carlisle nodded back. "Mr. Platt, Miss Esme, my name is Dr. Cullen. I was told Miss Esme has a broken leg, but I confess I am surprised you don't appear to be in pain." His eyebrows were high with wonder at her demeanor.

Esme giggled. "I think Father is in more pain than I. But I do have a bit of a twinge in my left leg." She pointed at the leg.

The left corner of Carlisle's mouth turned up but he resisted the smile. "And how did this happen?"

Mr. Platt seemed too nervous to speak so Esme squeezed her father's hand and continued. "I was trying to retrieve my parasol." Carlisle's expression was obviously dumbfounded because she laughed again. "Father bought me a new Sunday parasol for my birthday. It is made with French silk, and when I was doing my chores, I opened it to scrub off a dirt stain, and the wind blew it up a tree. It might have fallen out on its own, but well, honestly, I'd been looking for an excuse to climb that particular tree for a while…"

"Esme!" her father chided.

"Father thinks I am not being ladylike." She smiled again at her father. "Anyway, once I got the parasol dislodged, I tried to jump down, and sort of… fell out of the tree instead."

Carlisle's jaw hung open slightly as he listened, imagining the scene, and then suddenly, perhaps because of her self-effacing story, or her light and amused manner, he found that he could not stop himself from chuckling. Her father's eyes became wide with alarm, and Carlisle glanced at him, and then back at Esme who started giggling too, and that was enough to send Carlisle into an out-loud laugh. Soon they were laughing together, and her father finally could not help but smile.

Nurse Fallon had been standing there during this entire exchange, and was so shocked to see Dr. Cullen laughing so spontaneously, that she was instantly seized by a burning jealousy. She had never seen anyone even manage to amuse Dr. Cullen, much less amuse him to the point where he genuinely laughed.

"What would you like to do, Dr. Cullen?" She said a little shortly.

Carlisle was not quite done laughing, but the nurse had called him to order, so he chuckled while he said, "Well, I need to have a look at the leg, and we may need an x-ray if we are unsure of the bone placement, but we'll splint it and keep you overnight, then send you home tomorrow morning, because… well, it's too late to drive home now."

This was not entirely truthful, but the father seemed relieved to not have to take care of the broken leg alone that evening, and nodded. "Whatever you think is best, Dr. Cullen."

Carlisle smiled at him, and was satisfied that this funny, young girl would be around for a little while longer. "Miss Platt, would you please show me your broken leg?"

Her father turned around, to avoid seeing his daughter's ankles, and she stuck her left leg out from under her voluminous skirts. It was quite swollen, but there was no visible or palpable compound fracture; it did seem, in fact, to be a simple tibia fracture. He was impressed by how she controlled her breathing and heart rate, as he knew he was causing her pain when he probed the area around the fractured bone. She was not only cheerful and funny, she was also strong and brave.

"My, your fingers are cold! But I confess it is helping with the pain." She sighed.

Carlisle smiled again. "I think I'd like to get an x-ray just to be sure. Nurse Fallon?" The nurse hurried off to retrieve a gurney. Carlisle looked back at Esme and smiled. "So I hope there are no other trees you are looking to climb?"

She smiled again. "No, doctor. I'm sixteen and Mother says I'll never find a husband up a tree."

Carlisle laughed out loud again. He had been up a tree that very afternoon looking out for deer tracks prior to coming in to work. He was quite tempted to tell her that, but he was suddenly aware of how intently she was looking at him, and recognizing her increasing interest, he reluctantly turned away from her pretty face.

"Well, I'll check back with you after the film is developed. Please, let the nurses know if you need anything. Mr. Platt, Miss Esme." Then he quickly walked away, but he was unable to stop smiling.

He returned to splint her leg an hour later after the x-rays confirmed there was no reason to fear any complications. She had him chuckling the entire time, but he kept his gaze down because he knew how closely she was still looking at him. Finally, she tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped from the contact.

She giggled at his reaction. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, but do you know why all of the nurses are _staring_?" She whispered.

He smiled at her again, and he was actually pleased when he heard her heart rate increase. He knew that she must have an idea of what the nurses were thinking, but she was enjoying making light of the situation, so he continued to amuse himself by playing along.

"I think that they have never thought of me as the type to… _laugh_. They must disapprove," he whispered back as if they were co-conspirators of a shocking scandal.

Now it was Esme who laughed out loud. "You all are quite serious here, are you not? Death really ought to be more funny."

Carlisle was taken aback. "Funny, Miss Esme?"

"Yes, it would make it less scary, more a natural part of life. And, you might have more fun at work," she said thoughtfully. "You look like you need to have more fun."

Carlisle's smile became sad as he stood up.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I upset you?" For the first time that evening Esme's smile faded.

Carlisle shook his head no as he finished elevating and stabilizing her leg. "Not at all, Miss Esme. It's just that," Carlisle sighed, "this was the most fun I've had… in a _very_ long time." He looked into her blue eyes and gave her one more sad smile. "Thank you, Miss Esme."

She smiled back at him, and suddenly Carlisle realized that for the first time in over a century, he felt drawn to a woman, but she was a _human_. He was so uncomfortable he quickly turned and left to finish his charts.

When his shift ended before dawn, he firmly resisted the temptation to visit her before he went home. He regretted not saying good-bye to her, but he did not want to even entertain the idea of getting to know her better. He could not afford to get close to a human woman. His cold heart could not take it.

He never knew that she returned a week later with a small gift of thanks, and found out that he had already moved to Chicago.


	17. Chapter 15: 1918

CHAPTER 15

~~1918~~

A hot summer breeze blew through Carlisle's window in Chicago and his mail was blown on the floor. He picked up another letter from Denali. Eleazar was clearly following instructions from the women of the household to inquire yet again about how Carlisle was doing. The slight elevation in Carlisle's mood after meeting the young human woman had lasted only a few years. Now his isolation seemed an even more stark a reality than it had been before. The loneliness was starting to consume him. Eleazar was the only one he had told about Esme because only Eleazar knew what he had gone through with Raisa. Carlisle was fairly certain that Eleazar was going to be forced to relate all of the details to the others, but he would only write to Eleazar about this topic.

Eleazar's letter stated quite simply, "_My friend, I am afraid for you. I have seen others fall into this state before. I know that staying with us in Denali does not cure your malady. I want you to consider making a companion."_

Carlisle folded up the letter and stared at the bright sky outside his window. He tried yet again to imagine what it would be like to bite into the neck of a human, to have the scent of blood fill his nose as the blood slid over his tongue, and then to force himself to stop feeding before… before the heart stopped. He shook his head and stuffed the letter into the leather portfolio where he kept his letters from Denali.

Carlisle turned his attention to the second personal letter he had received that afternoon. The postmark was from Haskell County, Kansas. He had no idea whom it could possibly be from, but he carefully opened the envelope and read through all eight pages with eyes wide from surprise. It was from another classmate from Dartmouth named Hanson White. He was a close friend of a physician in Haskell County called Dr. Loring Miner and White was relating a harrowing tale.

In January of that year, Dr. Miner had noted a particularly brutal epidemic of influenza unlike any he had seen in Kansas before. Dozens of the strongest and most robust citizens in the county were being taken down without warning. Swiftly, they progressed to pneumonia, and then they began to die. Carlisle was suddenly terribly afraid as he recalled his experiences with the epidemic from Russia fifty years before.

Then, as abruptly as the epidemic started it disappeared, the remaining patients recovered and went back to their lives, and news of the Great War returned to the headlines of Kansas. White wrote that Miner remained concerned, however, and he had encouraged Miner to report the outbreak to the Public Health Reports weekly journal of the U.S. Public Health Service. The report had been published, and Carlisle quickly flipped through his piles of journals and found it. There had not been any other reports in previous or subsequent journals so far that year.

White concluded his letter stating that he was writing all of their classmates who he could find, warning them personally of the event because they had never seen a strain of influenza take down and kill such healthy people before. He included a description of the history, clinical findings, and common presentation of their patients.

Carlisle put away the second letter with a new feeling of dread growing in his chest. He could not recall the last time he had been so ill at ease. He could not find anything to relieve his stress, and when he wasn't working he simply stared out from his window at a bright blue summer sky and stood inches from rays of sunshine that he could not allow to warm his shining, cold skin.

With the first cold front in early September Carlisle heard of some men at the military base north of Chicago becoming gravely ill with influenza. Carlisle immediately cleared his schedule and took an evening trip to Great Lakes Naval Training Station only thirty-two miles north of the city. Carlisle brought the letter from White with him and examined the sick men. After an hour with the patients, Carlisle asked to see the commander of the base, and together they called John Dill Robertson, the Health Commissioner of Chicago.

On September 16, Robertson placed signs on the elevated trains, in public areas and in all of the newspapers warning of the coming epidemic and the dangers of spitting, coughing and sneezing in public. He also declared that influenza was now a reportable disease to the Department of Health. Theaters, dance halls, athletic meets, and cabarets were closed until they could be inspected for vectors of disease. Crowd sizes were strictly controlled, and work hours were staggered to minimize crowds in public transportation. Police ordered children to clear the public parks and church service times were limited.

Carlisle took charge of prevention in the hospital and immediately enforced strict hand-washing and mask-wearing policies in his hospital. Despite all of their best efforts, however, Carlisle found their first case on the twenty-third of September 1918.

Carlisle set up living quarters for the staff and quarantined them all to the hospital and their individual homes. Nurses with young children were immediately sent home to be with their families. He kept enough doctors on the staff to run three shifts a day, and sent the rest to monitor the community and send the worst cases to the hospital.

Within a month the deaths at Cook County Hospital alone numbered in the hundreds. Carlisle had also lost one third of his staff to illness and death. He was routinely working for forty-eight hours straight with only six hours of "rest" between his shifts. Carlisle had never seen anything on this scale, but he had not lived in a large city during the Russian epidemic. Dozens were arriving every day, and most of them close to death. They were routinely splitting the patients into those who might recover, and those who were already lost. City trolleys were being draped in black and used to move the dead because there were not enough hearses and bodies were being stacked like wood in the morgue.

By November Carlisle's staff had been reduced to half-strength and the hospital administrator was dead, so Carlisle had taken on much of his responsibility too. He was getting reports from colleagues all over the country of the spreading epidemic so severe that he was beginning to fear for humanity. Hawthorne had told him stories and read the accounts of physicians who had lived through the Black Death. There were no similarities between that plague and this virulent influenza except the increasing dead; but he feared how high the toll would go and its affect not only on humans, but vampires. The vampire population in the United States of America had grown as the population had exploded with more and more immigrants every hour. The vampires were also immigrating from all corners of the globe. But Carlisle was constantly aware of the stories that Marcus had told him in Volterra of the shifts in human population and the beginning of vampire wars over territory. The last thing Carlisle wanted was an uprising that brought the Volturi across the ocean. The stress of all of these concerns weighed on Carlisle's mental state as the months crawled by and the epidemic worsened.

In late November there was a slight reprieve as the cold temperatures kept more people indoors, but more of the patients who arrived at Carlisle's hospital were close to death. His morale was reaching an all time low. Another family had arrived that morning and the two sisters died within hours of their arrival. The father was unconscious and very close to death, and the mother and son were close to their final days.

Carlisle triaged the family when they arrived and all of them were taken to the death ward. He noted the unique beauty of the sisters as they were taken to the morgue, and went to check on the condition of the mother who was the only one still alert.

Carlisle found that her bed was empty, but she was just two beds over weeping over her son and sponging his fevered brow. She did not turn to look at Carlisle, but knew he was there. "My husband is dead," she said in a hollow voice; "the nurse has gone to find someone to move his body."

Carlisle looked down at the father's face one more time. He had a strong and proud face and had died so quickly the disease had not taken any of the appearance of health from him except for his pale color. His mustache was neatly trimmed, and there were smile lines at his mouth and laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He was a man who had loved and known joy. Carlisle lifted the sheet up and gently covered him.

Carlisle turned back to the mother as a fit of coughing shook her thin frame. "You really should get back into your bed, ma'am." Carlisle moved to help her back to her bed.

"Elizabeth," she said forcefully.

"I'm sorry, I don't – "

"My name is Elizabeth. My husband's name was Edward. My daughters were Sarah and Ruth. And this is my son, Edward." Elizabeth began to weep as she introduced her dying son to Carlisle. She continued to wipe her son's brow as Edward shook from chills and pink foam dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

Carlisle sat down on the other side of the bed. "Elizabeth, I'm very sorry for your losses. My name is Carlisle."

Elizabeth's deathly pale face turned up and she actually smiled slightly as tears still streamed down her face. She sighed, "I'm sorry, Doctor. I know that you have watched people like us come in as we did and leave on wagons full of bodies. I cannot imagine what you have been through. It must be hard to care at all anymore."

Carlisle reached out and took her hand. The difference in temperature between her fevered hand and his cold and bloodless fingers must have been shocking to her but she only briefly glanced down at the contact then looked into his eyes. He smiled, "Elizabeth, I would not be here if I did not care for every life that came into this hospital."

She smiled again and wiped away another tear. Then she looked down at her son, "He's all I have left. He was the only one who looked like me. My girls both looked like their father."

Carlisle looked down at Edward's face and nodded, "You could not be more right. He has your eyes and profile."

She smiled. "He's tall like his father, but he loves music like me. He plays the piano, and he loves poetry and learning." She sighed again, "But he was going to leave us. He wanted to join the army rather than go to university. I was desperate to stop him, he's my only son, but his father would not intervene. He said that Edward was seventeen and had to make his own decisions."

Suddenly, Elizabeth began to cough again, and she sprayed blood onto Edward's white sheets and became dizzy. Carlisle quickly moved to her side and scooped her up before she swooned and laid her back in her bed and she drifted into a fitful sleep. The orderly arrived to remove Elizabeth's husband, and then Carlisle moved Elizabeth into the bed next to her son. He was struck once again by their resemblance and the overall striking beauty of the family as he looked more closely at Edward's face. He saw similar but youthful smile lines at the corners of his mouth and Carlisle thought that a childhood with this family must have been happy. He was suddenly overcome with sadness and longing, so he turned away and left the ward.

Carlisle tried to stay away from Elizabeth and Edward but found himself standing next to them and checking their condition nearly every hour. After Elizabeth slept for a few hours she was leaning over her son and nursing him again. Carlisle tried to encourage her to rest but she refused. She began telling him more stories about their family.

"Edward's father works all week at the bank, but the weekends are all family time. Ever since the children were young we would take them to the park for the day on Saturdays; then on Sundays we spent the day at church service, then luncheon, then games. My husband would play in the fathers and sons baseball tournaments with Edward. The girls and I would play horseshoes with the ladies. We would compete to see if the boys or the girls came home with more ribbons." Each time he came by to check on them she told Carlisle more stories of Edward's childhood, and as the hours passed Carlisle understood more and more about this dying boy.

The evening three days after they arrived Carlisle went straight to Elizabeth and Edward as he came on his shift. When he walked up Elizabeth was leaning over her son and his eyes flickered open, and he looked up at his mother's pale and drawn face and gave her one of the purest, most loving smiles he had ever seen on a young man's face. Elizabeth cried as she caressed her boy's caramel colored hair and his eyes closed again. Carlisle had to help her back into bed.

Carlisle knew that Elizabeth would not last much longer, so he decided to stay with her. Her temperature was now raging out of control and Carlisle was trying to comfort her with wet cloths. He was wiping the sweat from her arms and neck and legs. When he went to change the cloth on her forehead she suddenly seized his arm.

"Carlisle! Please, you must!"

Carlisle leaned closer. "What is it Elizabeth? What must I do?"

Her eyes were suddenly wide open with desperation. "You must save him!

Carlisle frowned, "I'll do everything in my power," he promised solemnly, taking her hand in his.

She clutched his hand, "No, no you must!" Her emerald green eyes burned like her fevered brow. "You must do everything in _your_ power, Carlisle. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward!"

Carlisle was completely speechless. Elizabeth's gaze pierced his and he knew that she had guessed what he was. Before he could even try to process what she was asking him to do, her eyes rolled back into her head and she was unconscious. Within an hour, though she strained to live, her body finally gave up. Carlisle was unable to give her any comfort before she passed.

Carlisle sat next to Edward's bed and looked down at him, watching every labored breath he took. He regretted every moment he had spent with this family. Not since Vienna had he allowed himself to fantasize about being a part of a human family. But, he did admit to himself that never before had he been so far into the depths of agonizing loneliness. Edward was now alone, just as Carlisle was.

Carlisle moved Edward's mother to the morgue first. When he was cleaning her body and removing all personal items but her dressing gown he discovered that she had her husband's wedding ring clutched in her hand. Carlisle removed her wedding ring and put both into his pocket. He found a few other pieces of jewelry from Edward's mother and sisters among her belongings. He would at least be able to save a few tangible remnants of Edward's family for him. Then he returned to the ward and wheeled Edward downstairs before spiriting him out the back door of the hospital.

Standing still as a statue in his bedroom, Carlisle looked down on Edward. He was so weak that he was not even coughing up the bloody sputum, he just lay with half open eyes gasping for breath. Carlisle could hear Edward's heart slowing down, too slow. Soon his blood flow would not support his organs and they would begin to die.

Carlisle's fists were clenched as he fought his internal moral battle, then suddenly he heard Elizabeth's soft, desperate voice again in his mind. _Save him… What others cannot do, this is what you must do for my Edward… Save him!!_

Carlisle's hands still remained at his sides. Was his motivation pure? Was he really trying to save the boy, so young and unfulfilled, or was he trying to save himself? Carlisle sincerely doubted himself. He could never be as loving as Edward's father had been. But he felt in his cold heart a new ember burning to carry on their example… _Something must survive of this good family. Their love for each other must not die._

Carlisle knelt down, and laid his cold hand on Edward's forehead. Edward flinched slightly at the touch, but then sighed at the slight relief from his burning fever. His weary eyes opened, and then he struggled to focus as he tried to see who was there.

"It's Dr. Cullen, Edward," Carlisle said quietly.

Edward turned toward the gentle voice, and some bloody saliva leaked from the tiny lopsided smile he gave Carlisle when he focused on the doctor's angelic face.

"Edward, you must _listen_ to me and answer a question…" Carlisle was desperate for Edward's approval, for his understanding and consent. Even with Elizabeth's blessing, Carlisle's fear of what the actual taste of human blood would do to his dedication paralyzed him.

Edward looked up at Carlisle and lightly pushed his forehead against Carlisle's gentle cool palm, as if to nudge him to ask the question.

Carlisle, looked down at the floor for a moment, then leaned closer and held Edward's eyes in his deep unbreakable gaze. "You're mother wanted me to save your life. But do you want… to live _FOREVER_?" He spoke in a harsh whisper, his eyes wide, blazing golden with intensity.

Edward gazed back at Carlisle, and his brow furrowed slightly.

"I can save you, but you will never die – _we_, will never die. We will be damned to live_ forever_." The depth of Carlisle's hundreds of years of loneliness felt like a chasm in his heart that gave his words a disturbing resonance. His separation from friendship and intimacy had been so complete that he had almost forgotten what it was like to be totally unguarded with another being.

Edward felt the weight of Carlisle's words and his own eyes filled with tears as he continued to look up at Carlisle's pained expression. A tear rolled down the side of Edward's face to the pillow.

Carlisle wiped away the tear. "I will take care of you, Edward, no matter whether you decide to live or die."

Edward gasped for breath again. Carlisle quickly retrieved a handkerchief and lifted Edward up so he could breathe a little easier. Carlisle wiped the bloody sputum away with the handkerchief as he held Edward in his arms.

Edward looked up at Carlisle. "Forever?" He whispered so quietly that no human could have heard him.

Carlisle nodded, and wondered yet again, _Am I saving this child, or am I saving myself?_

Edward looked directly into the vampire's gaze and whispered more clearly, "You are… saving… both of us."

Carlisle stared incredulously, _Did he hear me?_ But he did not have to wonder any longer because he could see it in Edward's eyes. Edward was resolved: he wanted to _LIVE_.

In that instant, Carlisle struck with deadly force at Edward's throat, possessed by a bloodlust that he had denied for centuries. As the human blood pooled on his tongue, and lit his taste buds, as it slid down his throat, it was as if every nerve ending in his body fired in pleasure, stronger than any orgasmic pinnacle he could recall from his existence. He continued to drink, his mind a whirl of passion and thirst, screaming for more, and more, and more.

Then he realized his mind was screaming for him to stop. And then he heard Edward's screaming. Edward was crying from the depth of his soul, and he was weakening. He had to stop!

Pulling away from Edward's throat was like pulling a redwood tree from its ancient grounds. It felt like an eternity, extracting his teeth from the veins of his prey, and it was excruciating for him to withdraw without filling his thirst. Twice he tried and failed, but as he heard Edward's cries of agony, ripped from bloody lungs ravaged by the influenza and pneumonia, Carlisle's infinite compassion finally gave him the power to release Edward.

Carlisle fell backward onto the floor, and dropped Edward on the bed. Edward writhed and shook with the pain, and though Carlisle was dazed, and completely clouded by his feeding furor, he crawled back up to the bed, covering his mouth with horror at what he feared he had done.

He again took Edward in his arms, and Edward strained to find Carlisle's face though the agony.

_I'm so sorry, Edward! I'm so sorry! I deserve to be destroyed for doing this to him! I'm a monster! I'm so sorry! _Carlisle's empathy for his victim overwhelmed him and he fell deeper into his abyss of despair.

Then suddenly Edward put a vice-like grip on his arm. Carlisle looked down at Edward with anguished eyes. "You… are… NOT… a monster!" Edward whispered hoarsely. Carlisle stared at Edward, and then thought in his mind, _Be you reborn my son_.

Edward continued to cry out and writhe in pain as his body transformed, cell by agonizing cell. Carlisle never moved and continued to hold Edward in his arms, for two days and three nights.

Edward was getting weaker and weaker again, moving less and less. About eight o'clock on the third night, Edward looked up again at Carlisle, who smiled again, smoothing Edward's bronze-colored hair. Edward gave him a crooked smile in return, and then Edward's eyes slid shut and he stopped moving.

Carlisle started, shocked. He knew what the presence of another vampire felt like. He had felt little inklings of that sense over the days as the process had continued, and he had finally convinced himself that he had done the transformation correctly. But suddenly, Edward's hear stopped! He was rigid, and cold, and his face was frozen in the crooked smile.

"Edward? Edward?? EDWARD! EDWARD!!!" Carlisle shook the frozen boy, screaming his name. His dead heart shrank as his hope for a new life drained away. His desolation of centuries of watching his human friends all die exploded in his head and he collapsed on Edward's chest.

Then suddenly Carlisle lifted his head. He realized that Edward's bare chest under his hands was hard, very hard, and cold.

"Carlisle?" Edward's velvet voice floated up, and Carlisle turned his head moving toward Edward's face. Edward gave Carlisle another crooked smile. "I'm thirsty."

Carlisle nearly fell off the bed as he erupted with laughter, but Edward sat up and embraced Carlisle tightly.

Carlisle quickly concluded his affairs in Chicago claiming that distant relations in Alaska had taken ill with influenza and he needed to aid the family in their affairs. He removed Edward to Denali and the coven welcomed the new vampire with open arms.

Carlisle and Eleazar took Edward hunting every day. Edward demonstrated a prowess for wild cats while Carlisle still preferred deer in any form. Once their appetite was sated, they would race each other in the woods, and due to Edward's amazing speed he most often won. Then they would walk together among the few humans nearby to practice Edward's restraint.

Under Carlisle's guidance they found that it was a bit easier for Edward to adapt to controlling his thirst than it had been for Carlisle, who had groped alone in the dark for decades. Edward's surprising tenacity to resist his strong instincts to hunt human blood resulted in very few occasions where Carlisle had to contain him and drag him home. Most often Edward's impulse to kill occurred when they passed a human with violent thoughts, which seemed to intensely influence Edward when he read their minds. Part of the reason they left Chicago sooner than Carlisle intended was that Edward had lost control and killed the first human he met who had violent thoughts. Edward was distraught, but when they arrived in Denali and he met an entire coven who struggled daily to deny their thirst he took up the task of learning how to be like Carlisle with renewed dedication.

They focused a lot of energy on Edward's gift. Eleazar had never seen anything like it. Edward could not recall actually hearing thoughts when he was human, but simply knew instinctively what people were thinking. After the change Edward could hear humans' thoughts fairly well, and he very easily became attuned to Tanya's coven, but Edward was most acutely aware of Carlisle. They also discovered that Edward could hear only what was immediately passing through someone's mind, including coherent thoughts, feelings and impressions. Vampires seemed easier for him to hear. What Edward heard from vampires was often packed with a lot more sensory information as their senses were heightened, and it made the relationships among their coven very honest.

Carlisle had been so closed off and secretive for so long as he strove to live as a human, it was an immense relief for him to suddenly have someone who was so receptive to his ideas and teaching, and to who he really was. They spent their endless expanse of time talking about what Carlisle had learned about vampires over his hundreds of years of experience. Often they would sit for the entire night without Carlisle speaking a word, and Edward would silently listen to Carlisle's mind wander through time and his personal history as a seemingly endless narrative. Carlisle began to collect paintings that told the story, though Edward could see each scene in Carlisle's memory as clearly as Carlisle did.

Edward was like a child again, following Carlisle's example, and striving to please him with great sincerity. Edward knew Carlisle's every thought and so could clearly see his authenticity and compassion. But Carlisle also on rare occasions would turn his mind from things he did not want to discuss with Edward.

Edward noted that the avoided topics included Carlisle's human family, Edward's human family, and a coven in Italy called the Volturi. When Edward found himself deflected from Carlisle's thoughts, he would become frustrated; but he also sensed deep wells of emotion that Carlisle worried would overwhelm Edward, so Edward assumed Carlisle was simply protecting him and disciplined himself to wait until the day when the discussion would finally be boundless.

Within a couple of years, Carlisle felt very confident Edward was ready to start desensitizing himself to living in constant community with humans. He began writing to inquire about small town positions for physicians and found several communities in need of medical expertise.

The Denali coven was very sad to see them go, Tanya most of all. Edward brought the post to Carlisle one day and his brow was creased. _What is it, Edward?_

Edward looked at Carlisle warily. "Let's go for a walk."

Carlisle understood that Edward did not want prying ears around this conversation.

They hiked out into the woods and when they were several hundred yards from the house Edward hopped up into a tree and Carlisle followed.

"Tanya is upset we are planning to leave," Edward said a little sadly.

Carlisle smiled. _She has always wanted us to stay, but I warned her we were only here for your training._

Edward looked Carlisle and then sighed, "She wants _me_ to stay."

Carlisle knew Tanya well enough to understand immediately that she wanted Edward. Carlisle had hoped the situation would work itself out, but clearly Edward was conflicted. _Edward, you are a grown man. You are capable of making your own decisions. Do you want to stay with her?_

Edward looked back at Carlisle and seemed surprised by the question. "No, I want to stay with you."

Carlisle could not hide the happiness that thought gave him, but also knew that his wishes could be influencing Edward's course. _You know very well how happy I am to have you with me, but I always want as much honesty from you as you have from me. You are free to stay with me or go as you wish._

Edward looked back at Carlisle considering what he had said, and understood exactly why he was saying it. "Carlisle, you know Tanya thinks she is in love with me. She has had… feelings for me ever since we arrived, even after she understood that I could hear her thoughts. I don't feel the same way about her." Then he looked intently at Carlisle. "I know that you changed me because my mother asked you to, and you were desperately lonely. And I know from their thoughts and yours how much happier you have been since you changed me. But, I don't want to leave you. I have so much to learn, and I am happiest with you."

Carlisle looked to the ground and smiled. _Thank you, Edward. You already know how much that means to me. But, please, if you ever decide you must leave, promise me you will follow your own feelings and not mine._

~~1920~~

Carlisle and Edward settled on Ashland, Wisconsin. There was a small private academy that was ideal for continuing Edward's education, and a local hospital in dire need of medical direction. A number of the staff had been killed by the Spanish influenza epidemic. Carlisle would see to the recruitment and retaining of a new network of physicians and nurses to help serve the surrounding community.

They arrived in the fall and Carlisle was pleased that the sun was already at its customary winter nadir, and would not be seen for at least eight months. He established with the school and with the hospital that they both suffered from the rare condition, xeroderma pigmentosum, and the shared severe skin condition easily explained his reason for wanting to adopt Edward when he was orphaned. Also, the diagnosis meant that their activities during sunny periods could be restricted without suspicion, and they could remain indoors and carry out their activities. On those days Edward would study at home, and Carlisle would take house calls in his home office with the curtains all drawn tightly. They purchased one of the larger houses in the small town since their personalities demanded a significant amount of personal space, and Carlisle needed a professional office for his patient visits. They settled in easily, and the community welcomed them and dismissed any oddness as a result of their skin condition and big city origins in Chicago.

The hospital benefited greatly from Carlisle's immense expertise and modern practices. As Edward's education progressed their evening discussions were turning toward science and philosophy, and Carlisle smiled often as Edward worked out Carlisle's theories of non-violence in such a violent world. Edward soon became curious enough to visit the hospital and work with Carlisle and his patients. He had a supremely natural rapport with patients because he could read their thoughts and find the real causes of people's illnesses within moments of meeting them, even though people's minds often tricked their own bodies. He took advantage of this time in the hospital to reduce his sensitivity to human blood more and more but Edward could not work in the operating room. This slight weakness embarrassed Edward, and he felt ashamed so that he avoided talking to Carlisle about it. Carlisle's patience with him, however, seemed infinite.

Despite his continuing challenges in restraint, Edward demonstrated such a penchant for medicine that Carlisle was not surprised when after a year in Ashland Edward inquired about attending medical school after university.

Carlisle could see that Edward was modeling himself more and more on Carlisle's example. One evening Carlisle sat in his office reading. He had been drawn to the _Flexner Report_ on medical school quality reform again because Edward did not want to move very far, knowing how his adoptive father felt about the northern Midwest. But Carlisle was concerned about the current policies of the Dean of the University of Wisconsin's College of Medicine. He had already had several arguments with the Dean about local public health concerns. The kinds of epidemics that had plagued Wisconsin recently were often due to careless management by doctors and hospitals, not new diseases. It was the kind of tragedy of ignorance that had befallen Edward's family, who had originally become ill due to poor containment.

Carlisle put down the book; he hadn't thought about Edward's parents in a long time. Carlisle smiled to himself, but then the smile faded as he wondered if Edward's mother would have been proud of what he had done to her son. He had no doubt Elizabeth would have been proud of Edward, but Carlisle still doubted how his abilities compared to Edward's loving human parents.

"Who is Elizabeth?" Edward said lightly as he walked into the house. "And how could she be better than you, Carlisle?" Edward laughed.

Carlisle stood up and sighed, placing the book on his desk and then walked out of the study following Edward's path toward the music room. _Elizabeth was your mother's name, Edward. Don't you remember?_ Carlisle said carefully.

Edward had been retrieving a set of sheet music from the bookcase, but suddenly stopped what he was doing when Carlisle mentioned Edward's mother as he entered the music room. "Yes, I remember, I just thought… I didn't realize you were thinking of _her_ specifically."

Carlisle watched his Edward closely. _Do you think of her often?_ Carlisle asked sadly.

Edward changed his mind and he moved to another bookcase without turning to look at Carlisle, then he busied himself finding the new selection of music he was seeking. When he found it, he walked over to the grand piano and sat down. "I think of all of them…every day."

Carlisle's face fell slightly. Then he looked back at his Edward. _I was wondering how I compare to them…_

"Carlisle, stop. You are more to me than they ever were. Yes, I miss them, but neither of my parents could have shown me the world that you have."

Carlisle nodded, and then glanced over Edward's shoulder. _Debussy?_

"It was my mother's favorite." Edward said quietly. He began to play, and Carlisle sat down on the settee and listened to the floating chords of _Claire de Lune_. Edward would sometimes play for hours because it seemed to calm Carlisle when his thoughts were troubled, and Edward knew Carlisle was troubled.

Edward listened to Carlisle's mind wander as he played, and to his surprise, for the first time Carlisle candidly reflected about his own mother, how Carlisle's own face resembled hers and that was the only knowledge of her likeness that he had. Then he thought of how Edward's mother had inspired him to try to save Edward. And then, Carlisle felt that he and Edward needed more, they were missing something…

Edward stopped playing. "Is my company not enough?" he said, somewhat childishly petulant.

Carlisle sat up again. _Edward, your company is more than I ever expected to deserve_.

Edward's brow furrowed. "Then what do you mean that we are missing something?"

Carlisle shook his head. _I don't know. I missed not having a mother, and I feel like you need that. Perhaps there may be things you cannot tell me, and you may want someone else to tell them to. I really don't know, Edward_.

Edward considered this. "I don't think anyone could replace the mother I have lost. I wouldn't want you to even try," he said softly.

Carlisle nodded. _I understand._

Edward started to play again. "I was talking to my teacher today about loss. I like her and we speak often. She tells people she is a war widow, and she is working while seven months pregnant to support herself. But that is not the whole story." Edward's brow creased. "Her thoughts told me her husband was abusive, and he did go to war, but he didn't really die. When he came back, he beat her horribly, so she fled west…"

Carlisle cringed inwardly. Suddenly he was in the unyielding grip of the memory of his father brutally punching him in the eye with his iron fist, sending him staggering to the ground. Then the monster was reaching for his walking stick and drawing it back far behind his head before whipping it down on his son's back, hitting Carlisle repeatedly, causing large welts to swell over the cracks in his ribs before he could lift his arms to defend himself and get away. The memory rose up like a tidal wave, overwhelming hundreds of years of mental walls which had imprisoned that part of his past.

Edward was assaulted by the memories as they flooded out of Carlisle's mind, and he slammed his hands on the keyboard as he braced himself against the onslaught. "Carlisle!"

Edward turned around and found Carlisle sitting on the settee, bent over with his head resting against his left hand. Edward listened to his thoughts which still poured forth like a confession. Carlisle was still not fully healed, over two hundred and fifty years later.

Edward was now the only living being, save for one of the Volturi, who knew of Carlisle's private pain. Edward had not seen Carlisle so vulnerable since the night of his birth as a vampire. He was caught off balance because he had become so accustomed to seeing Carlisle as an immovable object, strong, dependable, and emotionally steady. For the first time Edward truly understood what Carlisle had actually been doing when he saved him: Carlisle had been trying to find unconditional, familial love, a love Edward had always had with his family, but Carlisle had _never_ known. Though he had thought of Carlisle in this way for a long time, and often referred to Carlisle as his father to the humans because they expected it, he had never said the word to Carlisle's face. "Father…" Edward said the word out loud, and it was heavy with meaning.

Carlisle looked up, slightly stunned, and then smiled at Edward. "Son." Then he stood, slid his hands into his pockets and walked out into the main hall and slowly up the staircase to be alone. Edward dutifully closed his mind, but he threw open the bookcases, pulling out piles of music, and played for his father the entire night. The complete works of Debussy drifted up through the house and Carlisle listened with his eyes closed in meditation.

When Carlisle emerged from his seclusion the following morning, it was a Sunday, and Edward produced something completely unexpected: a baseball glove. Edward's lopsided smile escaped as he saw Carlisle's bemused expression.

"It's time you woke up to the Twentieth Century. You need learn the national game, and it's something I always play with my _family_. Besides, I think we're going to need some new competitive sports since I will always beat you in running."

Carlisle chuckled, and they had their first game of catch that afternoon.


	18. Chapter 16: 1921

CHAPTER 16

~~1921~~

Carlisle sat in the courtyard of the hospital and looked up at the stars. He often sought solitude when there was a short reprieve in his duties. Edward was busy with menial tasks that were expected of younger student volunteers.

"Do you mind if I intrude, Doctor?" A gruff older physician approached Carlisle's bench.

Carlisle did mind, but he was not about to be rude to the man who he hoped would take over his job as chief of medicine at the hospital when he and Edward left to start the next cycle.

"Not at all, sir. Please sit, Dr. Newell." Carlisle said pleasantly. Nathaniel Newell was a rough man, but he was highly intelligent and sincere in his wish to help mankind. What he lacked in bedside manner he made up for in shrewd authority, and it made him an ideal choice to replace Carlisle.

Newell cleared his throat, "You know, your boy is a rare find. I wouldn't expect many orphans to turn out so well. I think he'll make a fine physician one day."

Carlisle smiled. "He seems fairly determined at the moment." He chuckled. "But, he's also young and quite passionate about many other things, especially music. We'll see what career he settles on in time."

Newell nodded. "Why are you not married, sir? There are many young ladies in this town who have pined for you for years, I hear."

Carlisle chuckled again at Newell's awkward, direct manner. If something occurred to him, he ignored social graces and simply asked. Carlisle shrugged. "I met a girl once, who made me laugh. No one has made me laugh like that since."

Newell seemed even more perplexed. "You are a young, accomplished, learned man. How did you let her get away?"

Carlisle was surprised by how genuinely concerned Newell appeared to be. Carlisle wondered if he seemed particularly forlorn to people around him lately. "She got away because… I didn't think at the time that I would be good for her. I wanted her to live a long and full life. She would never have had that with me."

Newell laughed, a full belly laugh. "There are plenty of physicians who have good family lives. I know your boy is nearly grown, and you should consider your life after he goes to university."

Carlisle looked over at Newell and realized the older man had been talking to Edward. Edward was worried about Carlisle being alone more and more as he was occupied with his education. Carlisle chuckled again. "You and Edward do not need to be so concerned for me. I'll find plenty of projects to occupy my time."

Newell was not satisfied, but he allowed the topic to drop.

Edward ran up to the two physicians. "Father, another automobile accident victim has arrived."

Dr. Newell growled as he stood up again, "Those contraptions will be the death of the human race!"

Carlisle stood, and indicated that Newell should precede him. They worked on the young man for over an hour, but could not save him. He had already lost too much blood, and transfusions could not sustain him long enough for his lacerated liver to clot.

Carlisle took the body to the morgue with Edward who shook his head and commented, "I knew him from school," as they placed the young man on the table.

A few days later Edward came to the hospital after school and he was positively agitated. "My head hurts. I've been bombarded all day with everyone's tragic thoughts. First the Smith boy's death, and now Mrs. Evenson just lost her baby to a lung infection."

Carlisle looked up from his charts. "Your teacher?"

Edward nodded as he flopped onto the couch in Carlisle's small office. "The one whose husband supposedly died in the war, but she actually left him. The students were upset, but she was strangely at peace with her baby's death. Her thoughts were strange, like she had decided it was okay."

Carlisle was suspicious. "My goodness, what was she doing in school today?"

Edward shook his head. "I have no idea. And the entire last hour of study time she seemed really focused today on going to watch the sunset at the cliffs, and how serene it would be."

Carlisle's head jerked up again. _Edward, someone jumped off the cliffs an hour ago – at sunset. When was the last time you saw your teacher?_

Edward's eyes were wide. "Before I went to play baseball with the other guys."

Carlisle stood up. _I'm going to check and see who was brought in. Stay here._

Edward sat up, "Why? Are you worried I can't handle it?"

Carlisle shook his head. _You know I have faith in you, but if it is someone you care about…_

"I'm coming with you." Edward stood up.

Carlisle looked at his son's determined face and then led the way. He walked into the trauma ward and inquired about the patient.

"I think they said she died before she arrived." The resident physician said quietly.

"And what was her name?" Carlisle said.

"Um, I'm really not sure. I think it was Platt?"

Carlisle sighed with relief that it was not Edward's teacher. "Not Evenson?"

The physician nodded. "Oh, yes, that's right, Platt Evenson. I think Evenson was her married name."

Suddenly, Carlisle's eyes went wide. And Edward's head turned toward him. "Father?" Edward reached out to Carlisle.

"Esme… Platt… Evenson?" Carlisle said in a strained whisper.

The physician was now beginning to look confused by Carlisle's expression. "Yes, Dr. Cullen, I think that's right."

Before the physician could finish speaking, Carlisle turned and ran out of the ward, and Edward followed. "Too fast, Carlisle! Slow down!" Edward called after his father who was moving a little too quickly for a human.

Within minutes they were in the cold morgue. Carlisle flipped through the charts and found the name he was looking for. He braced himself with the table in front of him as he read the chart: _Esme Anne Platt Evenson: Suicide._

Edward turned to his father, horror on his face. "You knew her? You knew my teacher?"

Carlisle turned to look at his astonished son. _She was the first woman in over a century I had feelings for._

Edward bowed his head slightly. "I really liked her too. She was beautiful, and very caring, but sad."

Carlisle smiled slightly, remembering when he had met her like it was the day before. _No one ever made me laugh the way she did._

Edward smiled too, seeing Carlisle's memories inside his head. "I know."

Carlisle turned his head. "What is that?" Carlisle said softly.

"What?" Edward turned his head.

_Edward, I hear… a very faint heartbeat in this room_.

Edward closed his eyes, and instantly knew that Carlisle was correct. He moved to the right, listening, and then Carlisle pointed, three drawers to the right.

Edward threw open the drawer door and pulled it out to reveal the body draped in thin cotton gauze; the toe tag read _Platt Evenson, Esme_. "Carlisle, she's still alive," he turned back to his father. "But she won't be for much longer."

Carlisle knew what Edward wanted him to do, but he was frozen. His memories of Edward's transformation replayed in his mind_._ It had been traumatic for both of them. But then Carlisle recalled the night he met Esme, and how their laughter had echoed in the quiet wards. He had smiled when her heart beat faster when he looked at her. She was so young, and happy. He could not reconcile that girl with the woman who had jumped to end her life.

"Her baby died. She thought she had nothing left," Edward quietly responded to Carlisle's thoughts.

Carlisle looked down at her pale face. "What happened, Esme? What happened to the funny girl I knew?" He leaned closer. "Did you really want to die? Or did you have nothing to live for? I know what that feels like." He sighed. "Would you live…" he could not say the words, _to be with me?_

Edward watched his father smooth the dying woman's hair. He listened to Carlisle think about how wonderfully things had gone with Edward, how much the world would be missing if Esme died, and also how desolate his life was after he had to leave her.

Edward could see Carlisle making his decision and immediately turned his attention to checking for possible obstacles and saw none as Carlisle picked up her body. Edward led the way, keeping watch as they quickly ran out of the hospital.

Esme walked up a forty-degree incline through the trees in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. She allowed her senses to become inundated by the colors of the fall leaves, the abundant life below among the trees and above flying through the air. She had not bothered to tie up her light brown hair and allowed the wind to swing it around and twist it. Esme giggled like a child as she sprang easily up the steep slope and then leapt up into the trees at the top of the edge. She flew up to the highest branches that could support her weight with ease and then gasped and nearly fell out when she found Carlisle's face looking down at her.

Carlisle easily clasped her arm and steadied her as she recovered from the shock. "Didn't your mother tell you that you'd never find a husband up a tree?"

Esme's face slowly changed in to a small smile and she laughed. Carlisle chuckled lightly but his smile hid his sadness: she had changed. She was not as quick to laugh, not as full of impish charm, and because she no longer had a heartbeat he could not tell whether she was reacting to his presence the way she had when they first met. Carlisle found himself in a position he was not used to. He was trying to make _her_ laugh, and to gain _her_ attention.

The tree joke had succeeded where many others had failed so Carlisle relished that success and reminded himself yet again that he had to be patient. She was still adjusting, and she might still decide to leave.

Carlisle sat down on the nearest branch and turned his attention to some circling bald eagles a few dozen meters away. The eagles were hunting.

"She found a mark," Carlisle pointed at one of the eagles.

Esme turned and looked, "How can you tell?"

Carlisle flattened his hand out and tilted it slightly to match the eagle's wing position, "She has adjusted her down-angle. In about five seconds she is going to dive," Carlisle grinned.

Esme turned to watch the eagle and, just as Carlisle had predicted, the eagle completed one more circle and then folded her wings and dropped like a rock into the trees below.

Esme turned to stare at Carlisle with wonder. Carlisle shrugged, "I have spent many, many hours up in trees, Esme."

Esme smiled at him. "You weren't joking were you?"

Carlisle smiled. "When, in 1911 or now?"

Esme giggled. "Either."

Carlisle shook his head, "No, I never joke about climbing trees. You could break a leg, Miss Esme."

Esme laughed out loud. "See now, I knew you could be more funny than you were letting on."

Carlisle noted that she was leaning forward a little more and he was both elated and frightened. "Hmm, as I recall, you said that 'death ought to be more funny.'"

Esme smiled and looked down bashfully. "I was a child and I had no idea I was talking to a three-hundred-year-old immortal at the time."

Carlisle shook his head, "My dear, I'm not a day over two hundred and seventy-seven."

Esme lifted a porcelain hand up to Carlisle's stony cheek and gently ran her fingers over his skin. She sighed, "Everything feels different."

Carlisle looked down. "I can barely remember what things felt like as a human."

Esme put both hands on Carlisle's face and he looked back up at her. "I remember how I felt about you."

Carlisle was frozen by her gaze but then for a moment he panicked, worrying what would happen if they really did cross this line and Esme chose to leave him. But she was ready for his retreat and quickly interlaced her fingers in his. "You're not going to run away to Chicago this time, Dr. Cullen."

Carlisle laughed and Esme pulled him into a kiss.

~~1924~~

Esme sat alone on the front porch of the large ranch house. The two-story house was situated in a clearing and surrounded by wildflowers and grass which should have attracted grazing wildlife, but the animals knew who lived inside, and were staying away.

Carlisle walked up from behind her and sat down next to her. He picked up one of her hands to caress it, but Esme pulled it free from his grasp. "Edward already tried, love, just give me a little more time," and Esme shook her head.

Carlisle leaned forward onto his knees and turned his head to look up at her, but her gaze was fixed out among the trees toward the rushing river in the valley below. "Did Edward tell you what I used to tell him?" Esme did not respond, so Carlisle continued. "I lived alone in the wilderness for five years. I spent another five years learning to desensitize myself to blood. I spent another three years learning how to live as a human in a large city. I have spent over one hundred and fifty years overcoming failure after failure trying to practice as a physician. I know failure. I know what it feels like."

Esme turned to look at Carlisle's earnest face. "Do you know what it feels like to kill a human?" Carlisle did not respond but did not look away. "Even after years of practice? Even with the most loving teachers…" Esme allowed a sob to escape her lips, and Carlisle reached over and picked her up, enveloping her in his arms. She put her arms around him and continued to sob. "Carlisle, I don't deserve you."

Carlisle shook his head. "How could you even think something like that?"

Esme was silent for a moment. "I wanted to kill him," she whispered.

Carlisle rested his chin on her caramel head and caressed her hair. "Why did you want to kill him, love?"

She lifted her head and looked at him with her bright red eyes, wild and untamed. "He hurt her."

Carlisle held her blood-filled eyes with his warm amber gaze. "I understand."

Esme's brow furrowed slightly, then smoothed out again. "Edward told you."

Carlisle nodded. "I know Charles was chosen by your parents, and you didn't love him. I know he began to beat you when you started to refuse him. Then he was drafted. And when he returned, he started to force you. You left when you found out you were pregnant." Esme was silent and looked away as he spoke. "What you don't know is that I understand because I was beaten too." Esme's eyes never left his face as he told her his story, and about his father.

Esme was still contemplative when Carlisle finished his story. "Edward tried to make me feel better. He told me that he still has problems when he hears the thoughts of violent people."

Carlisle nodded. "Just a year before we found you, Edward and I were in a saloon in California. We were stopping to complete some business before we headed to Wisconsin. There was a large man seated in the opposite corner of the establishment, and I was reading over some documents. Suddenly, Edward stood up and marched over to the man, and I could tell by his posture he was poised to kill. I barely made it in time to catch Edward's fist before it landed in the man's face. The man had apparently marked us as we walked in, decided that Edward was slight enough to be easily overpowered, and he planned to break my neck and steal whatever money and documents I was riffling through. Edward is very overprotective of me, even though he knows no one can hurt me. But really, he is overprotective of the innocent, and I am proud of him for that. And you are the same way, and I love you for it."

Esme smiled. "Edward is your son. I would not expect any less than a principled man. I love him because he understands my thirst." Carlisle looked slightly troubled, but then Esme leaned forward and kissed Carlisle softly. "I love you because you understand my pain. And no matter where I have been or what I have done, you still look at me as if I was sixteen." Esme smiled.

"Miss Esme Platt," Carlisle asked.

"Yes, Doctor Cullen?" Esme used a slightly higher pitched "young" voice.

"Will you marry me?" Carlisle smiled.

Esme was completely shocked. It was such a quiet, unpretentious, real moment. She nearly fell off his lap, but he held her steady and laughed.

"You see, even when I propose you can still make me laugh," Carlisle chuckled. Carlisle reached into his pocket and pulled out a red ring box and opened it to reveal a four-karat, oval sapphire ring nestled in a delicate filigree platinum setting.

Esme laughed and playfully swatted Carlisle's chest. Then she kissed him again and whispered "yes" into his ear. Carlisle slipped the deep blue jewel onto Esme's finger and whenever she struggled with her thirst for blood, with anything, she looked down at her ring, and focused on her passionate love for Carlisle.

~~1925~~

In March of 1925 the Cullens returned to Denali Carlisle and Esme were married by Wonder Lake in Denali National Park. Esme was a picture perfect ingénue in French lace and carrying white tulips, Edward posed as Esme's younger brother and gave Esme away, Eleazar was best man, Carmen was matron of honor, and Tanya, Irina and Kate all threw rice at them.

Tanya had insisted on a cake even though none of them ate it because she wanted it in the pictures. They had a photographer come to Tanya's house and take several posed frames of the entire family. Carlisle was staring at a five-by-seven print of the family photo and smiled to himself while he sat in the small Denali clinic.

"Newlyweds," Edward chuckled as he walked by Carlisle, listening to his father's thoughts as he carried a tray of surgical tools he had just cleaned. Carlisle smiled and put down the picture as he walked over to help Edward sort the tools. The clinic was barely a wooden shack but Carlisle often went out to the railroad construction project and the mine nearby. Because there weren't as many families there weren't as many everyday colds and fevers; it was more traumatic injuries and often there was nothing they could do. Edward was studying by correspondence but spending most of the daytime hours with Carlisle. Carlisle was completely enjoying working with his son, but he had noticed that Edward seemed troubled. He wondered if it had anything to do with his marriage, and feeling left out, but Carlisle knew that Edward's closeness with Esme was rock solid, and their family unit was sound. It was something else.

Carlisle turned toward the back of the building. Someone was coming, someone who needed help. Carlisle moved to the back door and opened it. He looked down the road and saw man on horseback approaching with a second man slumped over in front of him. Both men were clearly Chinese railroad workers. They were both in tattered rags and were terribly unkempt. The man who was ill had a scar on his right cheek but that was old and healed; he had many other wounds for Carlisle to inspect.

Carlisle had no hope of understanding what the first man was trying to say but all he needed was his eyes to see what was wrong with his companion. He was dying from exposure, malnutrition, and obvious abuse. Carlisle was able to ascertain that their unit was not far, and it was very likely that the first man had stolen the horse to bring his friend to the clinic.

"The superintendant will come and find them, and very likely kill them for stealing the horse," Edward said with his jaw clenched.

Carlisle stood up and retrieved his hat. "I'm going to talk to the judge. Do not harm anyone who comes after them, but do not allow them to be taken, do you understand?"

Edward nodded mutely. He did not often see Carlisle so upset, but he still wondered if justice would be done in this situation.

Carlisle and Edward arrived home that evening to find Kate and Carmen sitting in the parlor with Esme working on some heavy new sun-blocking drapes for the modest house Esme had built for the Cullen Family across town. The Denali Coven preferred to stay outside of human society, hidden away in the forest. Carlisle and Esme had decided after their wedding that they would build right near the edge of town and stay for about fifteen years, which was as long as they could stretch a visit using gray hair dye.

Carlisle went straight to Esme and placed a kiss on her forehead then left almost immediately. Carmen and Kate looked at each other and then looked at Edward and Esme. "They didn't feel it, did they?" Kate mused.

Esme's brow creased. "Feel what?"

Carmen smiled. "Eleazar will be interested to hear this."

Now Edward was intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Carmen smiled again. "Something happened today didn't it? Something affected the humans?"

Edward nodded. "He treated a man from China who was working on the railroad. He's been very poorly treated. Carlisle spoke to the judge and has been considering all afternoon the ramifications for the rest of us if he pursues pressing charges against the railroad company."

Carmen nodded. "Eleazar was wondering, because you never seemed to notice the last time you were here, Edward, that Carlisle seems to push his power off him when he's feeling empathy or compassion. Eleazar senses that because you were both made by Carlisle, that you carry some part of his power, and don't feel his presence the way we do."

Edward pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked at Esme.

Esme looked at Carmen. "Does Eleazar have any idea yet what Carlisle's power is doing?"

Carmen shook her head. "He says that Carlisle cannot be put in a category the way he used to classify vampires. All he will say is, 'He is _changing_ us.'"

~~1928~~

Eleazar rubbed oil very slowly onto Carlisle's father's cross. The soft wood was getting older and Carlisle had instructed him about how to carefully work with the grain. As they each worked on an arm of the cross, Tanya and Irina walked up onto Carlisle's porch.

"Still shining God's apple, Carlisle?" Irina laughed.

Carlisle smiled as he gently polished the wood grain with a circular motion. "It's a cross, Irina, something that has been used against vampires in the past, my dear."

Irina was slightly aghast. "You were a vampire hunter, Carlisle?"

Carlisle lifted a brow and pulled down his scarf to reveal most of his livid scar to her. Then he gave her a devilish grin. "How do you think I got this?"

Eleazar laughed loudly at her shock, "Perhaps we should start attending church again? I miss the pomp and ceremony and I haven't been in decades! Well, since I was married, at least." Eleazar smiled wistfully as he dipped his cloth in the oil, continuing to work on the cross.

"I wouldn't mention _church_ around Edward, if I were you, Eleazar," Tanya said quietly. "He's been a bit touchy lately." Tanya had a slight pout and her tone was irritated.

Carlisle looked up at her and frowned. "Did something happen?"

Tanya tossed her strawberry curls and sighed. "All I know is I made a joke that he didn't like."

Carlisle's brows lifted. "What joke?"

Tanya shrugged, "We were out hunting this afternoon, and he seemed a little frustrated. He was tearing up the animals a bit more than usual. So I said, 'Wow, Edward, we're going to have to _pray for your soul_ if you keep mangling the little creatures that way.' He got all offended and ran off."

Carlisle stood up, a new feeling of dread growing in his stomach. "Did he say anything about where he was going?"

Tanya shook her head, "No, he just said he was going to fill his thirst elsewhere."

Carlisle waited at home anxiously for the rest of the day. The others tried to stay with him, but he even sent Eleazar home. Carlisle sat in the parlor and stared at a book he was not reading, fighting the temptation to go and search for Edward, but his resolve to trust his son to work out his own problems forced him to stay in his chair.

Then suddenly, Esme appeared at the front door with her arms around Edward and they walked into the house together. Esme's eyes were wide and concerned.

Carlisle had already jumped over to them and was looking over both of them. "Are either of you hurt?"

"No." Edward's voice sounded dead, his head and eyes were down.

Carlisle knew immediately what had happened. He put his finger under Edward's chin and when he lifted it up and Edward looked at his father, Carlisle saw the crimson in his son's eyes. _Oh, son… My boy…_ Carlisle moved to put his arms around Edward, but suddenly Edward jerked out of both of their grasps.

"I'm not a boy, Carlisle," Edward snarled, his brows low, and his eyes narrowed.

Carlisle put his hands down. _No, son, of course you are not. You are a man, and you are the ruler of your own life._

"That's right, I am." Edward turned and walked out the back door of the house.

Esme reached out to catch Edward's arm, "Edward, please!" But Edward did not stop walking.

Carlisle gave Esme a sad look, but she waved for him to follow their son. Carlisle rushed outside after him. "Edward, please tell me what happened!" He called.

Edward rounded on him. "I killed that railroad superintendant! It's been _years_ and that judge had no intention of helping you because the railroad company was paying him! I heard that bastard actually calculating how many more days his current workers were going to live and he would need a fresh shipment! I KILLED HIM!"

Carlisle stared at his son's face, twisted by anger and anguish. He had known for a long time that Edward was tortured every day by the onslaught of thoughts he could hear, and that was in addition to the heightened senses of a vampire. Edward was pacing and raking his hands through his hair. Carlisle had never seen him so agitated. _I can see you are already suffering because of what you have done. Please, Edward, let us help you!_

"You help fix people! You help put people back together after they are hurt! What about all of the people that I see who are the ones hurting others? Don't you think we have an obligation to stop them? Is that not also in God's design? Why else are we here Carlisle? How else are we to make amends for who we are?"

Carlisle looked into Edward's eyes. Carlisle could feel his pain, and it pierced his cold heart. _Edward, we do not have to make amends to God; we are made by God, all of us. I know that hearing the thoughts of evil people has been weighing on you since you were transformed. Your gift is a great blessing and a great burden. But that doesn't mean God wants you to be the judge._

Edward looked back at Carlisle angrily. "Who else will do it if not us? God has taken our souls away so we can do this. We are made to kill without remorse!"

Carlisle winced slightly at the words coming from Edward's mouth, and he had to force down his panic. He was losing Edward; he could feel it. _Edward, I can promise you, son, we are not without souls. We cannot lose them because they never belonged to anyone but God_.

Edward shook his head and his eyes narrowed. "Carlisle, even if you believe that is true, how do you think we fit into God's perfect universe? Our instinct is to destroy God's humans, to cause pain, to be the most perfect predators of creation!"

Carlisle's eyes became soft to match Edward's hard gaze, and he took a step forward and put a hand on Edward's tensed shoulder. _I believe we have the same gift of grace God gave humanity, the ability to choose. We choose to not be predators. We choose to live among humans. We choose to preserve our humanity, and thus we serve God, not the darkness._

Edward pulled away from Carlisle. "I've listened to everything you've taught me. But I'm going to serve God by ridding the world of people who serve the darkness."

Carlisle reached out and put both hands on his son, his brow creased in pain. _Please! Please, Edward, I don't want to see you hurt…_

Edward threw off Carlisle's grip. "Goodbye, Carlisle." Edward took three steps backward, then turned and ran off into the night.

Carlisle stood as still as a statue with his arm out and his hand curved as if he was still holding his son's shoulder and a slightly stunned look on his face. Even when Esme came outside and tried to coax him in he did not move. Esme wrapped her arms around Carlisle's still chest and waited. An hour later they were still standing in the same place outside on the lawn. Carlisle finally whispered to Esme, "He's really gone."


	19. Chapter 17: 1928

CHAPTER 17

~~1928~~

Carlisle carried on, but was a shadow of his former self. He continued serving at the clinic; but when he left to go home Carlisle would sit in his office alone, not reading, not speaking, and not moving. Esme would sit on his lap for hours and he would hold her close to his chest. She would sometimes have to remind Carlisle to get up when his eyes turned dark, and he would comply, but that was all that he would do. Even the Denali coven was at a loss. Eleazar would come and sit with him, and sometimes he would talk, but mostly they would sit in silence.

One afternoon, Eleazar was reading the paper while Carlisle sat in his chair looking out the window, and then he suddenly turned to Eleazar.

"How much have you considered there might be some kind of fatal flaw in feeding only on animals?" Carlisle said with a slightly haunted expression.

Eleazar put down the paper and leaned back. "I have always considered it, and I know you have too. I now think it is more likely than a Volturi genocide."

Carlisle looked back out the window. "The Denali girls have lived for nearly six hundred years, but only the last two hundred on animals, and really only recently exclusively on animals. Everyone we have met at some point has fed on humans, except…"

"Except you," Eleazar said looking down at his feet.

Carlisle's brow furrowed. "Am I forcing an unnatural lifestyle on the people I love and leading them to an unknown fate because of my misguided ideology?"

Eleazar turned his head toward Carlisle. "Edward left because he is _young_, and he needs to work out his principles on his own. What he does is his own destiny. You, my friend, have a destiny of your own. You have been driving toward it your entire existence. I have no idea what it is, but you must remain true to yourself if you are ever to achieve it." Eleazar stood up and laid Carlisle's newspaper on the desk in front of him. "And by the way, Esme believes in you implicitly."

That evening Carlisle took Esme by the hand and they went for a long walk in the woods. They walked to their favorite tree and climbed up to watch the moonrise.

"Maybe we should move," Carlisle said quietly.

Esme was quiet, her eyes on the sky, and then she shook her head. "If he comes back, he needs to know where we are. We should stay."

Carlisle looked at her. "Love, it's been six months. You know him as well as I. He is not coming back. And you deserve more. I want us to have a fresh start. I don't think we can do that here."

Esme was still focusing on the moon and stars. "Where would we go?"

Carlisle pulled her closer and laid his cheek on top of her head. "I was thinking about heading back east. New York, New Hampshire, Vermont, that part of the country has some fairly good cloud cover."

Esme sighed. "We are really giving up?"

Carlisle frowned, and his throat closed up slightly, "We need to respect his wishes."

Esme nodded. "I've never been to New York."

~~1931~~

Esme whistled as she cleaned another giant pot. She could not help but enjoy herself because caring for people, especially children, helped to fill the hole in her heart. Whenever Carlisle was working, she was at the hospital orphanage.

The Great Depression had left many families homeless, and parents who were unable to feed their families were dropping off their children at the orphanage where she worked. Esme loved to be around people who needed her, and the children were all drawn to her loving nature.

Esme had taken over direction of the kitchens, Sally ran the bath and laundry, and a third co-worker named Maxine planned the education. They were seriously over capacity, they had beds for fifty, and they had seventy-two; but the women all had hearts larger than their facility, and turned no one away.

Carlisle and Esme were almost single-handedly funding the orphanage and were in the middle of constructing a new dormitory. Their independent fortune had not been terribly affected by the crash because Carlisle did not trust the stock market. Most of their money was tied to significant land holdings out in California and Alaska which he had obtained in the previous century. Carlisle had sold a deed to a railroad developer and that single sale was funding all of their philanthropy. Carlisle's modest physician's salary and associate professor's position at the University of Rochester afforded them a small city townhome for two. Their new life had brought them a level of contentment they never would have thought possible.

Carlisle watched Esme whistle as she rinsed the giant pot with a small smile on his face. Her caramel hair was swept back into a small bun, and wavy tendrils were swaying around her face as she worked. He remembered how her hair looked when she was sixteen, a long and wavy curtain that covered her shoulders. Then he remembered her hair twisted up underneath her cloche hat as they left on their honeymoon after their wedding.

"Are you going to watch me all night, or are we going home sometime soon?" Esme laughed as she continued to scrub. No one was in the kitchen with them, so Carlisle ran up behind her with lightning-quick vampire speed and pressed his body up against hers while kissing her neck softly.

Esme giggled and in a flash had Carlisle up against a wall but kissed him delicately. "Hmm, I think we had better escape before one of the children walks in looking for an evening snack."

~~1932~~

"I'm sorry, you can't bring your girl in here," said an irritated young man.

"But, sir, she's had a cough for four days, and she isn't getting any better." A second man's voice sounded calm, but held some tension.

Carlisle looked up from the chart he was reviewing and turned toward the conversation he was eavesdropping on. Then he turned back to his patient, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Miller, would you excuse me for just a moment? I have to go and check on a situation." He gave her a winning smile and she giggled.

"Of course, Dr. Cullen. Are you still married?" She smoothed her white curls, and straightened her nightgown.

Carlisle smiled back. "Mrs. Miller, you know you are next in line, but Esme has me tied down." He lifted his hand and wiggled his ring finger.

Mrs. Miller smiled, "I'll be waiting for you!"

Carlisle chuckled and walked out of the ward. He walked into the entry hall and toward the back entrance, where the argument was still taking place. One of the younger physicians, Leonard Davis, was blocking the way of a well-dressed, negro man who was carrying his daughter curled up against his chest. "I just want someone to listen to her lungs so I can sleep a little better tonight." He was very carefully controlling his temper, but Carlisle could hear emotion starting to creep into his voice.

Carlisle hurried toward them before Dr. Davis could deny the man at the door entry again. Davis and the man turned to look at Carlisle as he approached with an air of authority surrounding him. "Dr. Davis, I believe you are needed in pediatrics," Carlisle said with a soft but firm tone.

Davis looked at Carlisle and his brow creased. Carlisle was a senior staff member, and had the ear of the administration and the board. Davis, however, made no secret of the fact that he did not like Carlisle. Carlisle could smell adrenaline in Davis's blood and hear his heart rate increase every time Carlisle came close to him.

On some level, Davis actually knew that there was something unnatural about Carlisle, as many humans sense that there was something odd about any vampire. However, Carlisle was confident Davis had no idea what his instincts were telling him, and would never believe what he really was even if he admitted it to Davis' face.

Carlisle waited placidly for Davis to leave. Davis fumed but there was nothing he could do to defy him, so he slumped his shoulders but did not drop his gaze as he passed Carlisle and walked away.

Carlisle turned to the man still holding the little girl. "Now, then, please come inside, sir." He waved his hand and after a moment of hesitation the man stepped over the threshold. "Please tell me your name."

"Gerald Addison, sir," the man still seemed unsure of Carlisle.

"Please, call me Dr. Cullen," Carlisle placed the cool back of his hand on the little girl's forehead, "And who is this?"

"Her name is Violet," Addison said lovingly.

Carlisle placed his stethoscope on Violet's chest and listened to her heart, slid it up to the apex of each lung, and to the sides of her chest. "Tip her up so I can listen to her back." Addison did so and Carlisle listened. "You were correct, Mr. Addison. She has a lobar pneumonia on the left side, and a significant fever. Would you like to nurse her at home, or keep her here?"

Addison thought for a moment. "I think her mother will be more at ease if I keep her at home."

Carlisle nodded. "I want you to get some buffered aspirin tablets to control the fever, it's more effective than other extracts. Make sure she drinks as much water as possible. Keep her slightly elevated to help her breathe, and use wet cloths to cool her down. I'll need your address so I can call on you and see how she is recovering."

Addison nodded. "Number 14 Cherrywood Lane. And you think she'll be okay?"

Carlisle nodded. "If we keep her strength up, she will fight the infection better. And she is young and healthy -- she will be fine. Tell her mother that too," Carlisle added with a smile. "What is her mother's name?"

"Iris." Addison gave Carlisle the first smile of the conversation.

Carlisle smiled back warmly. "You have a Iris and a Violet. Take care of them both, I'll see you this evening, around eight."

Addison looked into Carlisle's eyes, staring at them for a moment, and then he nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Cullen."

Carlisle knew that he was being thanked for more than listening to the girl's lungs, but dismissed it. "I am doing my job, sir. I'll see you this evening."

He cheerfully ignored Davis's livid glances all afternoon. And though Carlisle was sure Davis had complained to the chief of medicine, no one mentioned the incident to him.

Carlisle carried his bag with him as he walked up to the large, well-appointed house on Cherrywood Lane. The Addison's were an older northern family, educated, and with a reasonably substantial income. Addison's ancestors were likely freed men or former indentured servants.

When Carlisle knocked on the front door, a housemaid answered but a woman in her thirties walked up right behind her. "Good evening," he said pleasantly. "You must be Mrs. Iris Addison."

She smiled at Carlisle. Her hair was up in a tight bun and she wore a tailored housedress with an apron, and several small flowers in her hair. "And you must be the kind doctor who met my husband today. Please come in." She took Carlisle's hat and coat and handed them to the housemaid waiting. "She is already improving doctor. She has been drinking and I got her to take some broth just an hour ago."

Carlisle sighted with relief. "Well, in that case, this will likely be a short visit. You have already done my work for me." She smiled again and he followed her up the staircase.

The next day Carlisle noticed Davis talking with a few of the other physicians on the other side of the ward and listened in.

"That colored man took a job from my brother. It's not right," Davis said angrily.

Carlisle closed his eyes for a moment, and then made a note of the others involved in the conversation: Harold Martin, Gil Sheldon, and Maxwell King. This situation had suddenly taken on a different light, and Carlisle's eyes darkened as the corners of his mouth turned down. All of them were members of the local fraternity known for some serious racial crimes, including a few violent incidents.

Carlisle did some research and learned that Addison had gone to university for civil engineering and met his wife while in school. He'd spent years building his clientele, often fighting prejudice; but he had developed a reputation for fairness, hard work and uncompromising quality. More and more firms were hiring him for short jobs at a good price. Recently, however, Addison had outbid several firms, including Davis's brother, for a job with the city that had been the last straw. Those firms and their rough employees were now venomously angry with Addison. Carlisle could not understand how such a grievance could translate to violent intent, but he had seen mistreatment of non-whites over and over through history. It reminded him of the wars of power between Catholics and Protestants, and it reminded him of his father. Intolerance in any era was still intolerance. And he could hear in his mind Edward's reprimand, "_Do we not also have an obligation to stop the ones hurting others?_"

Carlisle shadowed the group after he left the hospital. He could feel that the tenor of the enmity was rising, and he did not have time to warn Esme. She was not going to be happy, but lives were at stake and he had to act.

He timed his visit to Addison's house to be sure that he would be present just before the mob arrived. He did not want to give Addison a chance to send him away.

Addison answered the door, his face drawn and stressed. "Thank you for calling again, Dr. Cullen, but I think you should leave."

Carlisle shook his head, "No, Mr. Addison, I think you need me to stay more than you realize."

Addison lowered his voice. "Listen to me, Doctor, I've lived in this city for over twelve years, I know when they mean business. I really think you should leave, sir."

Carlisle leaned forward, "Please, trust me, I have dealt with these situations before. And besides I will not renege on my duty to check on your daughter until she is recovered." Carlisle looked at Addison and calmly waited for him to relent, and finally, he did.

Carlisle walked in the front door and immediately saw Iris wringing her hands. He smiled comfortingly at her, "Good evening, Iris. How is Violet today?"

Iris's face was pale, but she forced a smile, "She's… she's fine doctor. I'll take you up to see her."

"Thank you," Carlisle said cordially.

As they walked up the stairs Carlisle turned his head, and he could hear the mob a half-mile away, walking en masse, swearing and shouting. He continued up to Violet's room.

She was sitting up smiling and blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding outside. He listened to her heart and lungs and let her listen to herself. Then with his acute ears Carlisle heard Addison downstairs loading his shotgun.

"Violet, I need to go speak with your father. Why don't you go into your mother's room and listen to her heart?" Carlisle picked up the little girl and handed her to her mother. With his eyes he told Iris to hide, she nodded and turned, motioning for the two frightened housemaids to follow her.

Carlisle rushed back down the stairs and found Addison in his study holding a double-barreled gun and looking out his window. "They are almost here," he said, his voice harsh.

Carlisle walked up to him and waited for Addison to look at his calm, luminescent face. "They won't act until they work themselves up to a certain level. All we have to do is stand up to them."

Addison's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Seven years ago, a friend of mine… these same people…"

"I need you to promise me something," Carlisle put a cold hand on Addison's shoulder. "You must stay in this house. No matter what I say, no matter what they do, you stay in this house. Protect your family."

Addison's brows came together and he looked intently at Carlisle. "Doctor, what are you going to do?"

Carlisle merely smiled. Then he turned and walked outside. "Bar this door behind me, Addison."

"Doctor, I – "

"Addison, don't argue with me now!" Carlisle could already see the torches of the mob. He slammed the door behind him, and then walked up to the edge of the porch and leaned against one of the columns, waiting. He heard Addison shoving a chair up under the door handle and cocking both barrels of his shotgun.

It took another ten minutes for the entire group to reach the house. There were about sixty men in all. The men in the back were shouting. If Carlisle had been human his heart would have beaten faster and faster as adrenaline pushed him. Instead, he was a picture of calm. He did, however, feel something within himself; _something_ was building, and it wasn't anger. The men up front held weapons and glowered sternly at Carlisle. Carlisle merely looked back at them, waiting to see who would make the first move.

Finally, Maxwell King took a step forward and pointed at Carlisle. "Cullen, what are you doing here?"

Carlisle folded his hands behind his back. "I am checking on my patient. What are you doing here, Maxwell King? Shouldn't you be at the hospital?"

King frowned at Carlisle. "We want to talk to Addison!" There were shouts of agreement.

Carlisle shook his head. "Addison is tending to his sick daughter, a little girl who is _nine years old_." Carlisle emphasized the age loudly. "He also has a son who is _five_, and a baby daughter who is almost _two_." Carlisle narrowed his eyes at the crowd which was growing more and more quiet. "Would you gentleman like to talk to them too?"

"Don't meddle in things you don't understand Cullen! You're not from around here!" Someone from the center of the crowd shouted. Carlisle knew who it was.

"Davis, I may not be from around here, but I know a mob when I see one. And I refuse to let you terrorize a man who as done nothing but conduct himself, his family and his business in an honorable manner." Carlisle folded his arms over his chest, daring them to defy him.

Suddenly, a younger man, no more than sixteen walked out of the crowd with his torch in hand toward Carlisle. Carlisle turned his head slightly, assessing his actions, but then he saw sadness in his eyes, and he stopped at the foot of Addison's stairs. Carlisle saw in this young man's expression a shadow of himself at that age, unwillingly taking part in his father's witch hunts, struggling to hold his torch aloft, feeling the eyes of God on him. Then the young man turned and faced the mob with his arms crossed like Carlisle's.

"Sam, what are you doing?" a middle-aged man said angrily.

"This is wrong, Pop. Momma thinks so, and I agree. You dragged me here, but I'm not going through with it," Sam shouted back with a wavering voice, but stating his position with conviction.

Carlisle's jaw clenched slightly as he felt a connection that this young man would never understand. Only a person who has seen both the good and bad in the world and lived to tell the tale can feel the exquisite pain of watching a younger person go through the exact same pain and trials they have suffered. In an effort to bolster the young man's confidence, Carlisle stepped down two of the four steps, closer to his new supporter, and then lifted his chin and stared down the crowd. He could feel what was building inside him was growing _larger_.

Maxwell King fumed. "We're not leaving until we see Addison, so you'd both best step aside!"

"Maxwell, unless you want to explain to the board of directors, I think you had better leave," Carlisle said with quiet authority. "And that goes for you too, Davis, Sheldon, and Martin. And you, Matthews, you are a lawyer, and you, Hall, are a city councilman. I know all of your faces. If this boy's family disapproves, I can guarantee that I can find a thousand more in Rochester who will disapprove of any names published in the paper about this incident."

The crowd was starting to falter, and Carlisle could tell it was time. Carlisle raised his voice, and pushed his words and the energy that had been building in his chest out into the crowd. "_If you have any shred of humanity left in you, leave this man's family in peace!_" The humans did not realize what was happening, but they felt something as he spoke; some even took a step backward. Even Sam turned to look slightly aghast at him. After a moment of stunned silence, the crowd slowly began to dissipate.

Carlisle sighed with relief. It was the first time he had tried to push his power outward, willingly. And it had worked, perfectly, on a _crowd_ of humans.

As the last men left, Sam finally looked back at him again, but seemed too awestruck to speak, so Carlisle smiled at him. "Well, young man, I think it may take you a few years to appreciate how important you were tonight."

"Dr. Cullen, how did you do that?" Sam said quietly.

Carlisle shrugged, "Do what, son?"

Sam gestured toward the space in front of the house. "How did you talk them out of it? Even when I came over here, I was expecting at least a fight, or something!"

Carlisle nodded. "The psychology of a mob is immorality by anonymity. When you turn the mob into individuals, and their target into a sympathetic human instead of a monster, they fall apart."

Sam frowned because he knew there was more to it, but he nodded. Carlisle smiled. "Would you like to come in?"

Sam took a step back. "No sir, I think that might be a bad idea." He looked at the ground; he had crossed a line with his father but he was not prepared to go any further.

Carlisle nodded, "All right, son. But if over the next few weeks you need a friend, come and find me at the hospital." Carlisle hoped that he was right and the only lashing this young man would receive would be from his father's angry tongue.

Sam looked up again and smiled slightly, "Yes, sir." Then he turned and walked away down the lane.

Carlisle watched Sam disappear into the night and then walked onto the porch and reached the front door just as Addison opened it.

Addison looked at Carlisle carefully. "Dr. Cullen, I have to ask you the same question. How…?"

Carlisle waved his hand. "Words are mightier than the sword."

"That is 'the pen is mightier than the sword,'" Addison corrected.

Carlisle chuckled. "Of course, sir. And fear is a powerful ally as well."

Addison nodded, but his brow crinkled and his dark eyes probed deeply. "But just now, I felt something. Something changed. I didn't feel _fear_…"

Carlisle smiled. "No. But I hope they felt just a _moment_ of compassion. It was enough." Carlisle let the meaning of that sentence hang in the air. "Take care of your family, and call on me at the hospital anytime you need my help." Addison nodded, and watched Carlisle calmly slide his hands into his pockets and walk away.

~~1933~~

Carlisle was packing up his briefcase for the evening when there was a delicate knock on the door.

"Come in," Carlisle said as he continued to collect his files and organize his desk.

A well-dressed woman with blond hair and large blue eyes walked in with an air of superiority which immediately amused Carlisle. "Good evening, Doctor Cullen," she began with refined diction. "My name is Emiline Hale, and I apologize for my late call, but I have been immensely busy with my duties for the Lady's Aide Society today. I wondered if you might come to our benefit with your wife this spring. We are looking for new table sponsors, and I have been trying to get your wife interested in the society for years now." There was a trace of irritation sneaking into her tone, but her speech well practiced and theatrically delivered.

Carlisle bowed slightly. "We would be honored to attend, but I fear Mrs. Cullen has many commitments already. She may be hard to convince."

Emiline was clearly not to be defeated. "Of course, but she has not met me yet." Then she tilted her head slightly. "I'll expect you then on May 23rd?"

Carlisle nodded, "Until then, Mrs. Hale."

She nodded back, but did not turn to leave. "I wondered, Dr. Cullen, if I might trouble you for something else for myself."

Carlisle looked up from his briefcase which he had just closed. "Are you ill, Mrs. Hale?"

Emiline tilted her head slightly again. "I have some severe headaches, Doctor."

Carlisle regarded Mrs. Hale again, and his brows came together slightly. "I'm afraid I do not understand."

Emiline shrugged. "Mr. Hale has proposed a marriage for our Rosalie and it is to a good family. Rosalie seems happy, but I have been getting headaches from the stress of all of the wedding arrangements. I want Rosalie to be content, and I want her to be married before she turns nineteen. I think some morphine would help me immensely."

Carlisle now understood perfectly. "Mrs. Hale, I'm afraid the administrators here at the hospital have determined to restrict access to morphine to only post-surgical patients and patients with malignancies. I cannot help you."

Emiline was now perturbed but quickly recovered her features into the mask of perfect grace which she meticulously maintained. "Well, then thank you for your time, Doctor." Then she turned and left without a backward glance.

Carlisle waited long enough for her to make her way down the hall with her tiny steps so he would not have to run into her as he left. Esme was waiting outside, and she could wait just a few more minutes.

Esme tore around the curves in the road, her hair and scarf flying, a broad smile on her face. The Bentley Blower roared as she pressed harder on the gas and gravel and dirt flew behind her. The Bentley was the first racing car Carlisle had ever bought, and Esme had been intimidated at first. Now Carlisle could barely get Esme to drive him to work, and she never let him behind the wheel.

Esme pulled in front of their brownstone and parked. Carlisle smoothed down his blonde locks and chuckled to himself as he swung open the passenger side door. Esme seemed to be in a hurry. She jumped from her seat and ran ahead of him, pulling her scarf off her head, and flipping off her driving gloves as she reached for the door with the key in hand.

When she unlocked the front entrance she waved at him. "Come on!" She was smiling broadly and giggling.

Carlisle grabbed his hat which he had removed so it would not fly away due to Esme's exuberant driving, retrieved his brief case from the back seat and then took the steps two at a time. Esme was already through the entryway. By the time Carlisle was at the door Esme was half way through the house. Now he was certain she was leading him somewhere.

"What possible reason could you have to give me a surprise?" Carlisle called after her as he dropped his briefcase and hat.

"You'll see!" Esme called back at him.

Carlisle zipped at vampire speed through the house to catch up to her, running out the back kitchen door into the back yard. Esme had flown through the garden and was now standing next to the garage that faced the driveway to the street behind the brownstones. She was grinning broadly at him. "Come over here, love!"

Carlisle chuckled. "Should I close my eyes?"

She giggled. "There's no need, it's covered up."

Carlisle turned the corner and saw that there was a car covered with a tan tarp parked in front of the garage. Carlisle's jaw dropped. "What have you done?" A large grin spread across his face as he chided her.

Esme laughed out loud. "The economy is recovering and you got a promotion. Since you defended Addison, your practice has tripled and our orphanage has all the funding it needs. You deserve a reward, especially since I stole your first car."

Carlisle leaned down and grasped the corner of the tarp, then flipped it off the entire car in one graceful motion. Underneath was a cherry red 1933 Alfa Romeo 6C 1750 with tan leather upholstery. Carlisle swept his eyes across the entire car, and then gently ran his fingertips over the soft leather of the seats.

"Oh! If you don't take it out for a drive immediately, I will!!" Esme hissed.

Carlisle laughed and kissed the pout on Esme's lips, then swung the door open and bent down, way down, as he eased into the driver's seat. He stretched his long legs out and pumped the gas pedal, then with his foot on the brake, he turned the engine and it purred for him.

Carlisle looked up at Esme with a smile of pure joy spreading across his face, and she leaned over and kissed him again. "Have fun, love!" Then she turned and skipped back into the house as Carlisle backed out of the driveway.

Within fifteen minutes Carlisle was in the countryside and opening up the cylinders. This was a real racing car, after all. As Carlisle drove he began to marvel at the modern age he was now living in. He was a long way from seventeenth century England.

Driving past deep groves of trees, he was reminded of living in the forest after his transformation. He flew past country churches and was reminded of the small church of Father Auer outside of Vienna. As Carlisle drove back into town he was reminded of the edges of Boston. Then, as he pulled back into the driveway of the brownstone, and wiped down the beautiful new car with care, he smiled to himself thinking, _I might actually be able to go on without… him._

"Please tell me you didn't mean that," a soft voice replied.


	20. Chapter 18: 1933

CHAPTER 18

~~1933~~

Edward stepped out of the shadows and walked across the garden until he was standing directly in front of Carlisle. He looked disheveled and was wearing a black tuxedo with no shirt and no shoes. His eyes were on the ground. Carlisle stared at him, completely stunned, his mind blank.

"_Please_… tell me you didn't mean what you just thought," Edward pleaded without looking up.

Carlisle continued to stare at Edward, his lips slightly parted with shock, and both his mind and body frozen. The moment stretched into an eternity and Edward's brow began to crease as the young man began to fear that his father would reject him. Carlisle saw the deep lines of pain appear on his son's face and suddenly he was back in control of his limbs. He reached out and put his hand on Edward's shoulder in the same place he had put it when Edward walked away from him five years prior. _Son, I never tried to live without you by choice._

Edward nodded with his eyes closed, and then he grimaced and his breath hitched so Carlisle pulled his son into an embrace. Edward buried his head in his father's shoulder and began to sob. Carlisle held him for over an hour as he leaned on Carlisle physically and emotionally. When he finally regained some measure of control, Carlisle broke the embrace.

_Do you need me to take you to hunt? Are you physically okay?_ His concerned eyes swept over his son's body quickly looking for new venom scars or evidence of trauma.

Edward shook his head with his eyes still on the ground, "I'm fine."

Carlisle sighed. _Let's go inside, I'm sure you know Esme has been pacing by the door this whole time, trying desperately to leave us alone._ Edward nodded.

The moment they were through the door Esme's arms were around Edward, and she kept at least one hand on him as she brought him inside, found some clothes for him from Carlisle's closet, and then showed him the bathing room. She finally had to let him go long enough to clean up and change. Then her hand was back on him as soon as he emerged, and she proceeded to talk for hours bringing Edward up to speed on their life.

Edward listened intently, his hand covering both of Esme's tiny hands as they grasped his arm, and Carlisle interjected points into Esme's narrative, but Edward still kept his eyes on the floor. Carlisle had kept his thoughts focused on Esme's story for most of the evening, but finally sometime around dawn, Carlisle thought to himself, _Please look at us, son, we want to see your face._

Edward finally lifted his chin for the first time, and Esme stopped talking. Carlisle and Esme both looked intently at Edward's eyes, but they were not blood-red, they were deep black. Carlisle leaned forward, "Edward, we should take you hunting, you must be starving!"

Edward looked over at Carlisle with a tormented expression. "I tried… I tried to feed. I picked the perfect human, a murderer, the lowest fiend I could find. And they were everywhere. Humans' thoughts are so dark." Edward's brow creased again.

Carlisle frowned. "Surely, you can see that there are more shades of gray in people if you can read their thoughts, son? Not everyone is all dark or light."

Edward looked knowingly at his father. "Carlisle, you have too much faith in people. Most people start with very dark thoughts, then they censor themselves. But when they speak they still have those dark thoughts even if it is not what they say out loud. Good people will censor themselves again in their own minds. But most of us harbor those selfish, angry, evil tendencies and even _fester_ in them."

Carlisle leaned forward onto his knees and kept his eyes on Edward, but did not bother to contradict him because while he chose to think better of humanity, there was an element of truth to what he was saying.

"I wandered through each city and town, never making contact with anyone except my victims. I would take them down before their premeditated crimes occurred and I thought for a time that I could handle their final thoughts of horror. But then..." Edward's face fell and he paused. Esme tightened her hands on Edward's arm supportively.

"A week ago, I was in a bar, watching the patrons from a shadowed corner and I found a man who was drinking whiskey and mumbling about his cheating wife. He hated her deeply, and was planning ways to kill her. I waited for hours before he finally stumbled out the back door of the bar and vomited in the alley. I grabbed him by the jacket and jumped to the top of the building, and then I sank my teeth into his neck. But as his life was draining away, his final thought was a prayer to God." Edward's lips trembled slightly and he grimaced. "He asked for forgiveness for his thoughts of killing his wife. He told God that he hadn't meant any of it, and in his last thought he prayed that their son would be okay growing up – without a father." Edward dissolved into sobs.

Carlisle looked at the floor as Esme tried to comfort Edward.

"After that every time I took down another victim I saw _your_ face! They had _your_ face!" Edward looked up at Carlisle, his brow creased. "And the next one, the same thing happened! And the NEXT one!" Edward rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands.

Esme curled one arm around Edward's elbow and laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes looking to Carlisle, pleading with him to say something. But Carlisle knew that there was nothing he could say to comfort Edward, so he simply said, "Go on, son."

Edward dropped his hands from his face and sighed. "I thought that I was going to save humanity from itself. I thought my gift of reading the intentions of humans was infallible. I thought that if I was strong enough that I could use my gift to stop the suffering. I thought that if I drank human blood that I would find that strength."

Suddenly, all of Carlisle's doubts about what he had taught Edward and Esme flooded his mind. He worried that he had done something unnatural and perhaps even dangerous. It broke his heart to think that he might have caused Edward's current pain. Carlisle felt his brow crease and he covered his face with both of his hands and sighed.

"Carlisle, don't ever doubt that you did the right thing," Edward said with a clear voice. "Ever."

_Thank you, son. _Carlisle nodded, but he could not banish every doubt that had filled his mind since the moment he had changed Edward.

Edward heard the undertone in Carlisle's mind. Carlisle started to stand up, but Edward stood too and pulled Carlisle into another embrace. "The only time I have ever felt like I actually had a soul was with you. Both of you." Edward said quietly, referring back to their final argument.

The embrace caused a flood of emotions even more overwhelming and Carlisle finally wrapped his arms around his son and lifted his eyes to see Esme. Her hands were folded in front of a wide smile and her tiny body shook slightly as she cried with tearless joy. Carlisle smiled at her as he tightened his left arm around Edward, and lifted his right hand to Edward's caramel-colored hair. Their family was complete again.

Edward decided to start at The Harley School in college preparatory classes where he was introduced as Esme younger brother from Wisconsin. To help with the transition back into human society Esme bought season baseball tickets for her boys.

Carlisle sat in Red Wing Stadium and wrote on his scorecard. Edward sat next to him silently watching the game. "The Red Wings were bought by the Saint Louis Cardinals a few years back, but the triple-A players are very talented, and it's been interesting watching them grow up to the big leagues," Carlisle said as he looked up again at the field.

Edward merely nodded, and kept his eyes on the field. Then he turned his head slightly to the right. "Who is the King family?" Edward spoke quietly and quickly, so that no one even sitting next to them could hear him.

Carlisle frowned. _Maxwell King was one of the ringleaders of the lynching mob I stopped. They are an old prominent family, high in society. Maxwell's nephew, Royce, is engaged to be married sometime in the near future, I believe, why?_

Edward grumbled. "There are a lot of people here who think very highly of you, and are wondering who I am. But someone who is friends with Royce King just considered breaking your jaw as a wedding gift to the King family."

Carlisle chuckled quietly. _Unless he has a tire iron in his hand, I'm not concerned, Edward._

Edward shook his head. "Does anything ever concern you, Carlisle?"

Carlisle smiled, and then he projected to Edward a few of his concerns that morning: how the community was going to react as word spread about Edward, how his bone cancer patient was going to react to the amputation he had performed that morning, how the board would replace him if they decided to move again for Edward's benefit, whether the construction project in downtown was going to disrupt sewage lines and cause a public health hazard…

"I get the point," Edward was amused.

_And you thought nothing fazed me? You of all people should know better._ Carlisle chuckled again.

Edward nodded and then frowned deeply. "I should have known better. You were right, Carlisle."

Carlisle realized Edward had changed the subject of conversation and looked sideways at his son. _Please, don't judge yourself too harshly, Edward. You also know that I am still learning… as you are._

Edward sighed. "I know, I just have to prepare myself for a few centuries of catch-up learning." He turned toward Carlisle and gave him a lopsided smile.

Carlisle smiled back. _You really are staying?_

Edward nodded. "I think if I ever left again, Esme would hunt me down herself and tear me apart on your behalf."

Carlisle chuckled again and began to write again on his scorecard.

Two days later Carlisle heard Esme and Edward laughing in the parlor. He knotted his necktie and slipped on his jacket and then picked up two wrapped parcels he had hidden in his bureau drawer. He took the stairs two at a time and before he could walk into the parlor Edward called out to him.

"Carlisle has a surprise and he's really excited about it, but he's hiding what it is from me pretty well," Edward laughed.

"I perfected that technique a long time ago," Carlisle chuckled. He walked into the parlor and found Esme drawing in her sketchbook, and Edward working on a new piano composition. He handed one box to Esme and kissed her on the forehead, and then tossed the second at Edward who caught it with one hand.

Esme giggled and pulled the blue bow off the box and lifted the lid. Inside was a black velvet sack. She gently pulled on the sack strings and revealed a sterling silver bracelet. "Carlisle, it's beautiful!" Then she turned it over and saw the bangle was adorned with a large family crest also made from silver and with black painted detail. "Carlisle!"

Carlisle nodded, and turned to see Edward had opened his box too. The crest was fixed onto a thick leather band. "Hawthorne adopted me into his family by giving me this ring. I want to do the same for our family."

Edward smiled as he slipped the leather band over his hand and Carlisle put the bracelet on Esme's wrist. "Thank you, Carlisle." Esme threw her arms around Carlisle's neck and kissed his cheek.

Carlisle smiled at both of them and then walked out into the entry hall to retrieve his hat, coat and scarf. "I'll be back in the morning, my shift ends around 6 o'clock." He picked up his keys and walked out the back door.

The air was unusually brisk for an April evening and Carlisle was certain that he was not going to be able to get away with driving with the top down on his car for much longer without people looking at him strangely. He was just about to get into his Aston Martin when it started to snow. Carlisle looked up at the snow-heavy clouds and smiled to himself as he reached for the canopy to pull it up. He took a deep breath of the clean cool air, and then suddenly he caught the scent of fresh blood. Someone was in trouble. Carlisle dropped his keys on his front seat, flipped the cover over his car to protect it from the snow and ran in the direction of the scent.

Within a few seconds his nose brought him to a stop in a section of the road that was filled with trees and bushes. Carlisle turned and heard her shallow breaths. Her crumpled body was in the shallow ditch next to the road.

Carlisle bent down and turned her onto her back. Her blonde hair was matted with blood and her face was bruised and scratched. "Can you hear me?" He could see that she was trying to focus her eyes on him, but her eyes kept rolling. Her dress and corset were completely torn apart so Carlisle quickly assessed her condition and found her body was also covered in bruises shaped like fingers where rough hands had held her as she struggled, and she was bleeding from sexual trauma but they had not stabbed or shot her. He checked her for internal organ damage and found none. Carlisle pulled her torn skirts over her shivering body and then laid his coat over her as well. Then he checked her skull and found the problem. The blood in her hair was from a severe depressed skull fracture of her left temporal bone. She was dying.

Carlisle looked down at the girl's pretty face and saw a tear rolling down from the side of her eye. In that instant he made his decision and gathered her up in his arms, keeping her left wrist in his left hand so he could monitor her pulse. Then he ran.

When he arrived at home and flew through the house into the dining room he ignored Edward and Esme's initial surprise. "That was fast," Esme laughed until she smelled the blood.

Carlisle quickly sank his teeth into the girl's neck, then both wrists at the cephalic vein and her great saphenous vein at the ankle. "Carlisle! What are you doing?" Edward yelled, and the girl with long blonde hair began to scream.

Carlisle put a hand over her mouth to quiet her screams. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear, "It will be over soon, I promise. You were horribly injured. You were dying. We are here to help you. You are changing."

Carlisle picked up her hand and held it as he leaned over her. Esme joined him and picked up her other hand.

"Carlisle, what were you thinking? Rosalie Hale?" Edward said in an irritated tone. "I have met her at school, and she has the most superficial, vapid – "

"Edward!" Carlisle silenced him with a word. "She can hear you." He turned back to Rosalie and apologized again as she screamed. "I saw what they did to her. I couldn't just let her die. It was too much – too horrible, too much waste." Carlisle could not banish from his mind the ghastly state he had found Rosalie in when he arrived on the scene. He could still smell and identify her attackers. He knew their names.

Edward wiped his eyes seeing every sickening detail in Carlisle's mind. "I know," Edward sighed.

Rosalie screamed again, and Carlisle swept her bloodstained hair from her face. "It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her," Carlisle repeated quietly.

Esme reached over and put a hand on top of Carlisle's hand. "Of course you couldn't." Carlisle looked up at Esme, and he thanked her with his eyes for her support.

Carlisle whispered into Rosalie's ear again. "I am a vampire that takes care of humans. I could not let you die."

Edward put a hand on Carlisle's shoulder. "People die all the time," Edward said with a flat voice.

"I am well aware of that, Edward," Carlisle said plainly.

"Don't you think she's just a little recognizable? The Kings will have to put up a huge search – not that anyone suspects the fiend," Edward growled.

"The Kings are not our concern," Esme said with determination. Then she got up and returned with a washbasin and began to wash the dirt and blood out of Rosalie's matted hair with tenderness. Carlisle loved seeing that motherly expression on Esme's face.

"What are we going to do with her?" Edward said in a resigned tone.

Carlisle was helping Esme by washing Rosalie's trembling arms with a cloth and he turned to Edward. "That's up to her, of course. She may want to go her own way." Carlisle looked back at Rosalie and then put down her arm. "We'll see what she decides when the transformation is over." Then he leaned over Rosalie again and began whispering in her ear. "We are going to take care of you until you can decide what you want to do. You are free now to decide."

A little less than two days later Edward walked into the upstairs bedroom where Carlisle had moved Rosalie and brought several milk bottles full of animal blood. "It's just a quick taste to hold her until we get out of the city. Then I'll take her hunting."

Esme had just finished redressing Rosalie in a clean housedress, and she stood up and walked over to Edward. She pulled his head down and kissed him on the cheek. "That's my boy," she smiled.

Edward smiled back, "Thanks, Mom."

"Mom?" A weak voice came from the bed.

Esme rushed over and put a cool hand on Rosalie's forehead, which now as cool and hard as Esme's hand. "Sweetheart, can you hear me?"

Rosalie opened her eyes, and bolted straight up panting with fright. The blood-red color was a shocking contrast to her white skin and golden hair. She turned toward the sound of Esme's voice. "My mother isn't here is she?"

Esme shook her head. "No sweetheart, she's not."

Rosalie turned toward Carlisle, who stood on the other side of the bed and blinked when she looked at him. "You were telling the truth weren't you, Dr. Cullen?"

Carlisle nodded. "Yes, Miss Hale, I was."

Rosalie looked directly at Edward. Her eyes narrowed slightly at his completely disinterested gaze. But then he lifted a milk bottle full of blood. "This is for you."

Rosalie grimaced slightly then her new instincts awoke and she realized how thirsty she was. She grabbed the bottle and downed its contents. As she licked her lips her eyes softened. "Thank you." Then she frowned slightly. "You look at me like you are my brother."

Edward paused for a moment, and looked over at Carlisle, then he looked back at Rosalie. "I am your brother."

Carlisle began making plans to relocate the family because Edward was right; Rosalie could never reenter Rochester society. While that process was in the works, Esme decided to quit her job at the orphanage so she could stay home with Rosalie and help her adjust. Carlisle was very thankful that Esme took such an interest in bonding with their newest female family member. Rosalie clearly needed a motherly touch, and her trauma was in many ways worse than what Carlisle himself had endured and very similar to what Esme had endured for years.

The King family and the Hale family instigated a search and, naturally, nothing was found. Though it pained Rosalie to see her parents upset, she knew Carlisle was right and it was best that she simply disappear. Edward and Carlisle had cleaned the scene of the crime thoroughly, and incinerated any evidence in the hospital furnace.

Two days later, however, a young man named John Gordon, the eldest son of a wealthy family, was found dead after accidentally falling down the stairs in the family home and breaking his neck. The next day, another young man from a wealthy family, Peter Johnson, fell out a window and broke his neck. And the next day, a young man from the Michaels family died from a fall off a horse.

When Carlisle got home that night he went up to Rosalie's room and knocked on her door.

"Come in, please, Carlisle," Rosalie said graciously.

Carlisle opened the door and found Esme was already sitting on Rosalie's bed. Carlisle stepped inside and leaned against Rosalie's bureau. "I have inspected each body. None of these deaths were accidental."

Rosalie nodded, "Of course not."

Carlisle frowned. "You realize that you are forcing us to move faster to leave the city."

Rosalie nodded again. "Edward said that he did not have a problem with it. And when he saw my memories, he said he had to stop watching to prevent him from doing it himself."

Carlisle sighed. "So you do understand the concept of control."

Rosalie stood up was mildly contrite. "Of course, Carlisle. I swear have not spilled a drop of blood."

Carlisle's brows creased slightly as he looked deeply into her eyes. "Tomorrow would have been your wedding day."

Rosalie's jaw set and she looked away. "Yes, it would have been."

Carlisle nodded. "You have something planned for him?"

Rosalie looked up at Carlisle, and then her eyes slipped left toward Esme, who said nothing. Rosalie finally nodded, "Yes, I do."

Carlisle looked over at Esme, and Esme looked back at him with unrepentant eyes. Carlisle relented. "We will leave Rochester within a month. After tonight you will not leave this house except to hunt and you will do nothing to endanger our swift and smooth transition. Do you agree?"

Rosalie nodded. "Of course, Carlisle."

Carlisle nodded, doing his best not to frown disapprovingly and turned to leave.

"Carlisle," Rosalie called him back as she walked over to him. She took both of his hands in hers and looked up into his amber eyes. "I wanted to thank you, genuinely, for saving me. I know you understand that I have had trouble – adjusting – but I thank you for valuing me enough to save me."

Carlisle put a hand on her cheek and she tilted her head slightly to lean into the caress. Then Carlisle dropped his hand and sighed. "And I know you understand that I did not save you so you could have your revenge. I saved you because you deserve a better life than the one that ended too soon."

Rosalie looked up at Carlisle with large, sad eyes, "You mean… you didn't… change me for Edward?"

Carlisle's mouth turned up at the corners. "I hoped you two would get along, not annoy each other like you seem to; but no, I know Edward will have to choose for himself, and so will you. Love is more complex than simply finding someone who is like you. I learned that the _hard_ way."

Rosalie's sadness seemed to deepen. "Will I ever fall in love and marry like you and Esme?"

Carlisle smiled again. "If you are able to love yourself, you will love another. And I know you will, because I see you with Esme and she only connects with loving, caring people."

Rosalie seemed finally satisfied. "I promise never to be the reason why we move again."

Carlisle chuckled. "I have a feeling Edward will collect on that debt someday."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Of course, he will," then she returned to Esme's open arms, laying her golden head on Esme's chest. Carlisle left the bedroom, with a much better feeling than when he had entered. As he walked through the door, out of the corner of his eye he noticed white lace of a dress peeking out from the wardrobe, and he realized that it was a white wedding gown that had been tucked away out of sight quickly before he entered the room. Carlisle decided he did not want to query the purpose of the dress. He walked to his study.

~~1935~~

"Where is Rosalie?" Carlisle said, looking at the sky. It was getting late and the morning cloud cover was getting a little lighter. Carlisle's conference was nearly over, and the family was leaving Asheville to head back to Pittsburgh in two days, so Carlisle wanted to get in one good hunting trip, because it would be a long time before he could get back to the mountain deer which were so much more delicious than the field animals he had to make do with so often while living in a city.

Edward sighed. "I made her mad again this morning, so she left early."

Carlisle shook his head at his son. _You really ought to make more of an effort with her, son. She is still adjusting._

"I don't tease her that much, but this time I was trying to help her," Edward said earnestly.

_What did you say to her?_ Carlisle braced himself.

Edward sighed. "I told her to be careful."

Carlisle blinked. _You are going to have to explain why that offended her._ Edward became a little hesitant when he was about to reveal private information which he had picked from another person's mind. Carlisle recognized Edward's expression and nodded. _If you want to respect her privacy I trust you, son._

"No, it's not that. You should know what has been going on, Carlisle. I was chastising her for not telling you sooner." Edward put up a reassuring hand when Carlisle's face fell with worry. "She's fine, everything is fine right now." Edward took a deep breath and blew it out as he considered how to begin the story. "The first day we were here do you remember Rosalie decided to go exploring on her own because she was so irritated with me?" Carlisle nodded. "While she was out she ran into a hunting party. There were four mounted riders and one of them caught her eye. He's tall and strapping, and has a very puckish smile. He rides with a rifle, and is the best shot of the group." Edward smiled as he saw Carlisle was having no trouble following what was happening. "She followed them back to their hunting lodge that first day, and she waited for him to introduce himself. He did so within five minutes of catching sight of her." Edward grinned and Carlisle could tell Edward liked the boy's style. "He was a perfect gentleman, called her an angel, and would not leave her alone until she promised to meet him for dinner at the lodge."

Carlisle nodded as he put the pieces together. "Which is where she went the second evening."

Edward nodded back. "They have met every day for the past two weeks. He is from Gatlinburg, and is the third of seven sons and the favorite in his family. There is a roguish quality in him that Rosalie enjoys, and something about his hair and dimples remind her of a boy she loved when she was a human. But he is also quite attentive and kind." Edward sighed. "I told her to be careful, because this morning she was becoming quite sad about the thought of leaving and never seeing him again. When she realized I knew everything that had been going on because I had read it in her mind, she became embarrassed and angry because she felt she had done something wrong. I told her no, that she hadn't; but then I pointed out the reasons why she could not be with him, and her anger exploded. She took a swipe at me and then ran into the woods."

Carlisle closed his eyes for a moment and then sighed. _Do you know where they were heading today?_

Edward shrugged. "She had a vague idea that they were going hunting."

Carlisle nodded. _Well, at least she has found a little happiness. I trust her to do the right thing._

Edward smiled again. "I never saw her this happy, even when she was human and just got engaged. And she thought that was the happiest day of her life at the time."

Carlisle, Esme and Edward went hunting and Esme revealed that she knew all about Emmett too. Esme laughed when she saw the slightly dismayed look on Carlisle's face. "Love, you can't expect to understand everything in the heart of a modern woman."

When they moved to Pittsburgh Carlisle had a beautifully ornate necklace with the Cullen crest made for Rosalie. She had sobbed when he gave it to her, and hugged him tightly. For the first time since he had transformed her, Carlisle felt like he had finally connected to Rosalie's heart and made her feel loved and accepted. But things like the story of Emmett reminded him that she was still closer to Esme, and sometimes Carlisle couldn't help but feel a little left out.

Suddenly, Edward stopped where he was and lifted his head. "No, oh no…"

Esme put a hand on Edward, "What is it?"

Edward turned to Carlisle. "You are about to meet Emmett."

Carlisle could hear in Edward's tone that this was not going to be a happy meeting. Less than a minute later Carlisle caught the scent of blood, and soon after he heard Rosalie's light steps in the woods as she ran toward them, carrying an enormous body in her strong arms.

"It was a bear!" she sobbed as she laid Emmett's mangled body gently at their feet. Emmett was barely conscious and gasping for breath, and she knelt and curled her arms around his head. "I didn't – I didn't know what to do! If I killed it with my bare hands he would have known! I hesitated for one second and it was too late! It's my fault!!" She stood and seized Carlisle's shirt, "Please! Please, Carlisle! I'll do anything, just do this one thing for me! _Please_!"

Carlisle put a calming hand on her head and she sobbed against his chest. "He knows you, you need to stay with us." Then he moved around her and immediately assessed Emmett's wounds. He had large incised wounds down to his ribs across his back from being clawed, he had large puncture wounds in his back and chest that were bubbling blood and air where the bear had bitten him, and he was oozing blood from just under his clavicle. Carlisle had to work quickly. He tore off Emmett's boots and shirt sleeves, putting his bites in the same places he had for Rosalie. When Emmett began to scream Rosalie cradled his head in her lap and spoke soothing words to him, sobbing the entire time.

Every transformation had a unique effect on Carlisle. He began to understand that no matter what he did to try to ease the process, every transformation was traumatic. But in his centuries of experience, most transitions in life were painful, except, oddly enough, death. He had seen many horrific deaths, but the vast majority of people simply slipped away quietly. And there was something about the look of peace on the face of a person who had just passed that filled Carlisle with a strange sense of jealousy. He would never know that feeling.

The technique he tried on Rosalie, biting her in several different major artery and vein groups to spread the venom faster throughout the body, had effectively made her transformation faster, and he hoped that it had resulted in less pain. Emmett was larger and he had lost more blood than Rosalie, and it made his transformation a little slower than hers. Carlisle carried Emmett back to the house they were renting and gave him an injection of morphine which seemed to reduce the pain. But it was Rosalie's voice and touch that calmed him the most.

Several days later Carlisle found Emmett standing quite still with his arms crossed on the front porch of the house looking out at the North Carolina Appalachians. They had extended their stay a few more weeks, though Carlisle was leaving in the morning for Pittsburgh because his commitments would not wait.

Carlisle walked up behind Emmett and stood next to him. "Amazing isn't it? The difference in the colors you can see as a vampire is uncanny."

Emmett chuckled. "Not just the colors. I can see and hear every animal in a three-mile radius. It's almost deafening. Where is the sport in that now?" He lifted a brow.

Carlisle smiled. "I know you were a prize-winning hunter, but I'm sure you will find other activities to amuse you."

Emmett lifted a brow. "Like what?"

Carlisle chuckled, then pulled a ball from his pocket. "Ever play baseball?"

Emmett laughed out loud, disturbing a nearby flock of geese, which flew away honking in protest. Then he slapped Carlisle on the back but his newborn strength was too much, and he knocked Carlisle over the wooden railing and into the mud. They both laughed, and Carlisle just lay in the mud not even bothering to try to get up.

Emmett could not stop laughing even as he apologized. "Sorry!" Emmett jumped over the railing and stood over Carlisle and shook his head. "Well, sir, I think I might find competing against you a little boring too."

Carlisle lifted himself up, leaned back on his elbows and smiled. "Oh you won't be competing against just me. Edward taught me, and the girls enjoy competing against us."

Emmett smiled and pulled Carlisle out of the mud, setting him on his feet. "Something tells me I'm going to like being a Cullen."


	21. Chapter 19: 1937

CHAPTER 19

~~1937~~

Emmett's appetite for bears caused Carlisle to move the family back to the Pacific Northwest. Remembering the vast coastline he had seen on his ride following the wave of influenza back in the nineteenth century, Carlisle recalled unparalleled bear hunting in that part of the country, and wanted to show the rest of them the clean air and enormous trees. He inquired about positions in the area and found a young physician working in the mill town of Hoquiam who needed help. When Emmett found out there was an town nearby that had burned to the ground a little over ten years prior called Carlisle, Washington, he campaigned for a month for them to go and rebuild it. Unfortunately, Carlisle felt it was a little over the top so Emmett was overruled – but it became one of Emmett's favorite running jokes.

Emmett had an uncanny ability to bring more fun and excitement into the Cullens' lives, and even helped Carlisle relax and enjoy himself a little more. Together Emmett and Esme made quite a comedy team. Emmett and Edward also became very close and spent hours competing with each other. One of their favorites was hunting with just the boys and competing with Carlisle in hunting skills and speed.

The rest of Emmett's time was spent making Rosalie and Esme happy. His charm and liveliness were quite a contrast to Edward's quiet, brooding personality and Carlisle's reserved, bookish nature, and the girls enjoyed the attention. Within just a few short years Emmett managed to secure a special place in all of their hearts. When Carlisle finally received Emmett's wrist cuff in the mail from his jeweler back east, the entire family celebrated.

"For our newest son, brother, and Rosalie's true love." Carlisle smiled when he handed Emmett the box.

Emmett was at a loss for words, and just shook his head smiling at the new leather bracelet on his wrist. "Thank you, Carlisle. I never had anything like this given to me before." Edward slapped Emmett on the back and Rosalie and Esme both kissed him on the cheek.

Then Emmett smiled at Rosalie. "Rosie, I think this is a good time to talk to you about something with the whole family here."

Rosalie beamed broadly as Emmett got down on his knee and held out his hand. She daintily placed her left hand in his. "Rose, Carlisle told me that you begged him to change me. If it hadn't been for you, I would have died and never even had a chance to know what love is. You are my angel, and you and your family are my life. I want to spend my eternity with you. Will you marry me?"

Rosalie sighed, and everyone stared. Rosalie was usually controlled to the point of obsession and rarely showed her feelings except for a few unguarded moments. But with Emmett and a happy life stretching out in front of her, she was unafraid to show them all everything she was feeling.

Rosalie threw her arms around Emmett and whispered, "Yes to you and yes to forever!"

Esme began to sob with joy and hugged Carlisle close to her, Edward grinned broadly, trying to avoid listening to Emmett's thoughts.

~~1939~~

Edward and Emmett went out hunting one afternoon when Carlisle left for work. Rosalie and Esme had plans to shop for some more home-schooling materials at the general store. They were currently working through eighteenth century French poetry together and were planning to order more books.

Around noon there was a lightning storm and torrential downpour that soaked the area and Carlisle was alone working in Dr. May's clinic. Suddenly, he looked up from his paperwork and Emmett was standing there completely drenched with his arm around Edward who was leaning on him, holding his right arm close to his chest.

"Carlisle!!" Emmett's eyes were horrified. "I _broke_ him!"

Carlisle bolted up and jumped over next to Edward reaching for his injured arm. Edward grimaced and then cried out when Carlisle touched his arm. Carlisle pushed down his panic because he could hear the barely contained terror in Emmett's voice. "It's going to be fine, boys. Just tell me what happened."

"There was a hunting party, and one of the men sliced open his arm, and I _couldn't_ stop myself – " Emmett began with a shaky voice.

Carlisle's head snapped up and he looked into Emmett's eyes, they were crimson. He calmly nodded to his remorseful son. "It's okay Emmett, we'll deal with that in a minute. Tell me what happened to Edward."

Emmett picked up Edward and put him on the examination table and Edward grunted in pain when they laid him back. "He tried to help me stop, Carlisle! He tackled me when I went for the first human, but I twisted to the side and cracked him across the chest with my elbow! Then I killed the first hunter, but before I could get the second Edward grabbed me by the head! So I flipped him off of me and tossed him into a tree before I killed the second hunter!" Emmett's head was down with shame.

"Emmett… it's okay… I understand!" Edward said through gritted teeth.

Carlisle removed Edward's shirt quickly and carefully by ripping up the sleeves to the neck. He found Edward had a fine, jagged diagonal crack across his chest from when Emmett had initially hit him with his elbow, and a slightly deeper crack in his right forearm from when he had hit the tree. Carlisle could see that if he didn't get the arm fixed before he moved it too much, it could crack apart. Emmett groaned when he saw the injuries under the examination light and walked away from the table with his hands raking through his hair.

"Emmett! Calm down, son, these are not bad injuries; they are just painful." Carlisle looked down at Edward, "And fixing them is not going to be pleasant either, I'm afraid."

Edward grimaced again, "Get me home and let's get this over with." Carlisle helped Edward sit up with a grunt, and Emmett carried Edward home with utmost care.

Esme was beside herself with worry despite Carlisle's reassurances. Rosalie spent all of her effort trying to help Edward convince Emmett that he was fine. Emmett could not stand listening when Edward started screaming as Carlisle began to patch Edward's cracks and Rosalie had to take him out of earshot, which was nearly fifty miles away. Carlisle put Edward in the spare bedroom, which was the only bedroom with a bed, and sat at the food of the bed reading a book with Esme curled up next to Carlisle with her head resting on his leg.

"We are going to have to come up with a different plan on how to stop Emmett if he comes too close to humans," Edward whispered, and then he groaned as he shifted his position to look at Carlisle.

Carlisle could not help but smile when he looked up at Edward. "Clearly his strength is going to be an issue. I really thought it would fade more by this time."

Esme sat up and turned to Edward, reaching out to hold his left hand. "You are both going to have to talk to him. He's really devastated and Rosalie is only going to be able to do so much to calm him down."

Edward smiled. "I swear, Mom, I told him over and over again as he carried me back."

Carlisle sighed. "He just needs time, he will be fine. I'm going to have to look into the matter of the hunters he killed, however."

Esme looked back at Carlisle. "They were planning to clean up the camp site when they went out. That should be taken care of."

"It is all done," Rosalie said calmly as she and Emmett walked into the bedroom, each carried an armful of glass bottles full of animal blood. "There was no identifying information on the hunters, but they did not look like state senators out on a weekend hunt. We gave them a proper burial the way you prefer, Carlisle."

Emmett handed some warm blood to Edward who drank every last drop they brought with relish.

Carlisle nodded, "Thank you, Rose. I hope it brought you some peace too, Emmett." Carlisle turned toward him, and Emmett flinched slightly under Carlisle's gaze. Carlisle frowned. "Emmett, everyone here has had problems; you are not alone."

Emmett frowned. "You've never killed anyone, Rose never killed anyone," he grumbled and looked away.

Rosalie put an arm around Emmett's waist. "You know that's not true. I've never tasted human blood, but I'm not an angel and you know my story."

Carlisle stood up and put a hand on Emmett's shoulder, "We're going to help you. It won't happen again if we work together. Edward and Esme both understand what you are feeling. Talk to them. We are your family, and we'll get through this."

Edward was fully recovered within a week, but the family hunted all together or in groups of at least three for until Emmett's control improved and his confidence returned. As they closed ranks their family bonds became even closer.

Several months later on one such family hunting party, Carlisle was running through the woods of Olympia National Park enjoying the crisp air against his face. There was a strange scent on the air and he recognized it, but it was very faint, as if someone was covering their tracks…

Carlisle was about to investigate when he heard Rosalie call the group together as they closed in on the herd. Moving as one, they selected two specific prey and easily took them down. As Carlisle broke the neck of the first deer and prepared to bite into its carotid artery, his nostrils were suddenly filled, not with the scent of blood, but the faint odor he had detected minutes before which was now multiplied exponentially. And, he remembered where he had smelled it before: at River Forks.

Carlisle stood up just a moment before the others detected the new scent, and he had to put his hands up to calm them because they all instinctively smelled danger. "Stop! I know these people!" Carlisle hissed.

As the rest of the Cullens relaxed their stance the Quileute group ran up, then halted abruptly and stood there staring.

"Cold Ones!" The leader said angrily in his language.

Carlisle put up his hands. "We – not – harm – the People!" He responded in their language, straining to recall all he had learned so long ago, and the entire group of warriors froze in their tracks. Because none of them replied, Carlisle continued. "I know – Chief Black Fur – I heal – son."

There was a long silence, and then the Chief suddenly lifted his spear and took two steps forward. "Cull-en."

Carlisle lifted his hands higher, but walked around the others to stand before the Chief. Carlisle could easily see the resemblance. "Son of Black Fur – gave me – your words."

The Chief nodded. "He was my grandfather," he replied in perfect English. "He told me the story of the ghostly healer, the _kind_ Cold One – Cull-en." Then he took a sniff of Carlisle and recoiled.

Carlisle smiled. "I apologize for any odor."

The Chief frowned again. "You are hunting on the People's lands. You cannot kill the creatures here."

Carlisle nodded. "I am certain we can find a suitable border for an area we may hunt."

The Chief looked back at his men and then back to Carlisle. He clearly did not want to discuss the entire matter out in the open. Such discussions required discretion. "We will escort you back to the meeting house. We will discuss our terms as we walk. The council will then decide."

Carlisle smiled. "Agreed."

~~1951~~

Carlisle walked casually down the hallway at University of Pennsylvania. He was starting his MD/PhD program and had just completed his first meeting with his dissertation committee. There was one professor that was a department chair who was definitely determined to make the process difficult, but the rest of the committee was dutifully impressed with his proposal to track infection control in the hospital. He would focus on the surgical department, and naturally it was the chief of surgery who was resistant to the proposal.

Carlisle felt certain that he would win the man over because he could tell that he agreed with Carlisle's ideas, but Carlisle would have to make the conclusions seem like the chief's idea, and very likely give him most of the credit. Carlisle didn't mind; in fact, he tried to keep his name out of the medical journals as much as possible. It would not do for an observant researcher to realize there was an entry for his name in 1893, again in 1919, and then again in 1953 when this new project was completed.

This project was going to take a significant amount of time, but luckily Carlisle was able to spend time with his family and wife when most of the world was sleeping. In addition, Carlisle would not have to do another medical degree for another forty years. Well, he corrected himself, he hoped that he would not need to, but recently the volume of medical knowledge had increased significantly.

Carlisle collected his books from his locker and walked out to his Aston Martin. His classmates assumed he was from some kind of old money, and mostly steered clear of him and his eccentric family. Edward and Rosalie were posing as Carlisle's younger brother and sister, and Emmett was posing as Esme's cousin by marriage.

That night Edward came into Carlisle's study. _How is your school, Edward? _he asked curiously._ One of my professors gave me a pretty hard time today._ Carlisle smiled to himself.

Edward did not immediately respond. He sat down on the settee in the corner and stared at Carlisle's book collection. Carlisle put down the newspaper he was reading and waited patiently for Edward to formulate his thoughts.

"The biology professor was talking about the definition of life today." Edward paused, Carlisle waited. "He said that the definition of life is biological functions of ingestion and excretion, reproduction, and sentience."

Carlisle nodded. _You've heard that definition before._

Edward pursed his lips. "Do you believe we are alive? We don't reproduce."

Carlisle smiled. _Well, to follow the definition, we ingest blood, we excrete energy, we are sentient self-aware beings, and we reproduce by injecting our venom into a host. I'd say we are alive._

Edward considered this, and seemed to accept Carlisle's perspective but was still ill at ease. He leaned forward and looked directly at Carlisle. "I know you believe that we are created by God, and that we have a place in His creation, but if our purpose once was to control the population of humans, which has spun out of control already, and you believe we should not kill humans, are we a by-product of evolution that no longer has a place?"

Carlisle looked at Edward closely, appreciating once again his son's expanding mind. However, he could feel something was troubling Edward deeply. His son's demeanor was forever changed after his experiences on his own. Periodically he would bring his questions to Carlisle, but Carlisle wondered how many questions he did not bring to him. _Edward, I do not believe that having a choice makes us irrelevant. It is the choice itself that proves our relevance. If we are to evolve, like every other creature in God's creation, then biological and behavioral peculiarities must be given a chance to flourish – or fail. I believe we are flourishing._

Edward sighed and looked to the floor. "Then is my only purpose – to flourish?"

_Ah, I see. _Carlisle frowned. _Edward, it took me nearly a century to find and commit to my purpose. Don't be too hard on yourself. You will find your way._

Edward was frowning too. "What is your purpose?"

Carlisle lifted his brows. _You know what I believe my purpose is._

Edward shook his head, "No, not 'to benefit humans and vampires,' your purpose for existing, what is God's plan, if He has one, for you?"

Carlisle blinked. _I haven't a clue, Edward. I'm still hoping that God will reveal that to me someday – if I am worthy._

Edward flashed a lopsided smile. "Carlisle, if _anyone_ is worthy of a conversation with God, it would be you," Edward stood up to leave. "Oh, by the way, Emmett and I are going hunting over the weekend. Would you like to join us?"

Carlisle shook his head and sighed. _I got past the doctoral committee today, but I have a lot of typing to do this weekend._

Edward chuckled as he walked out the study door. Carlisle picked up his newspaper, but stared at it without reading it for a while because he was still considering the conversation with Edward. They had touched on several levels of meaning, but Carlisle could see in Edward a lot of the melancholy and loneliness he had felt over the decades. And now he was certain that Edward was still struggling with his spiritual crisis. The only advantage Edward had over Carlisle's experience was that he was not alone. He had loving parents, a brother and a sister. Carlisle silently prayed that it would be enough.

Carlisle wrote a letter to Siobhan, banging away on his typewriter as quickly as he could without breaking the delicate machine. She had written recently to inquire about Carlisle's growing family and to tease him about his sudden change of heart regarding transforming vampires. She also mentioned that she had met a fairly reclusive vampire recently who claimed to know Carlisle. Carlisle's jaw dropped when he read the name "Alistair" in her letter. She made a point of stating that Alistair had not sent him any words of greeting; he had simply said, "Hmph, animal-feeder. Strange, that one." Carlisle chuckled to himself because in his mind he could hear Alistair's voice saying those words.

Carlisle paused in his typing to stand up and change the record playing on his stereo. He had favored Italian opera that morning. Verdi's _La Traviata_ had just finished so Carlisle lifted the needle and slipped _Ernani_ out of its paper sleeve. In the relative quiet without music while Carlisle placed the disc on the player, he heard Esme humming a few bars of his last record as she worked in her study. She was working on some new designs because they were discussing building a house in the country where they could more easily do the necessary hunting. He paused for a moment and smiled to himself listening to her hum, and then noted that Rosalie was banging away out in the garage, working on her brand new 1951 Porsche 356. Then he gently lowered the needle.

Just before the needle touched the spinning disc there was a sudden knock on the front door. Carlisle's brows lifted. He had not heard a car approach, the front gate squeal, or any steps on the front porch. Edward and Emmett should have been miles away.

_Edward, stop playing games._ Carlisle said in his mind somewhat jokingly, though he felt fairly certain that such childishness would have been Emmett's idea, if the boys were indeed responsible for the phantom knock. _Edward? Is that you?_

The knocker rapped on the door again, polite, but definitely persistent. Carlisle put the turntable arm aside and reached for the door handle to his study.

"He's coming!" A small female voice said delightedly at the front door the moment Carlisle put his hand on the door handle. Carlisle's instincts were instantly awakened, and he heard Esme's pen stop scratching on her sketchpad. It was a vampire, and he was certain he sensed more than one.

Carlisle's protectiveness for his family caused him to bolt down the hall but Esme was suddenly standing in front of him with a concerned expression on her face. They exchanged glances as they turned toward the garage, behind the house, and both realized that Rosalie was no longer making any noise. She was on alert, and Carlisle sensed she was sneaking back around the house. He was not really concerned; he knew that they could protect themselves and they were not out-numbered. But new encounters with vampires always put him slightly on edge.

"We've frightened them," the small female voice was now upset.

Carlisle was encouraged by this remorse and, nodding to Esme, they moved with quick assured movements and were instantly down the stairs. Carlisle winked at Esme with confidence and he opened the front door.

Carlisle smiled good-naturedly at the petite female with spiky, chin-length brown hair standing on the doorstep holding a large pale-blue box with a white bow. Then his eyes were quickly drawn up to the tall, slim vampire with wavy blonde hair and thick sideburns standing behind her. His skin was covered with venom marks of war; there was barely an inch that was not scarred. Carlisle's right hand unconsciously jumped up to his neck before he could stop himself, his fingertips running over the long jagged lines where his neck had been torn apart.

"Please," the male vampire's deep voice was soft and reassuring. He put up his hands and bright vampire venom scars webbed even his palms. "Please, don't be apprehensive, sir. I can see your scars run deep. We mean you no harm."

Carlisle felt a wave of calm wash over him, and he knew immediately that one of these two vampires was pushing an influence on them. One more glance at each of them and he knew it was the male. Carlisle looked back up and assessed the young male's face. "Your gift is some kind of mood influence?"

The male nodded, and sadness emanated from his haunted eyes. "Yes, sir." Carlisle saw both of the newcomer's eyes were dark, not red.

The tiny female put a reassuring hand on her companion and then turned back to Carlisle. "He feels the mood, and the pain of his victims. I can see the future promise of my victims fade away to nothing as their life drains away." She turned to Esme. "Please, Esme," Esme's eyes widened as the girl turned back to Carlisle, "Carlisle, we need your help."

Carlisle wished once again that Edward were there to help guide this conversation, but he glanced at Esme and she smiled. When she smiled he realized that he had actually already decided to trust these strangers.

Carlisle turned to the two newcomers and stepped back from the door and gestured for them to enter. "Come in, Miss…?"

"I'm Alice, and this is Jasper." As she walked inside the house she pulled Jasper along behind her.

Carlisle glanced at Esme, but she was looking toward the end of the hall and Alice had stopped in her tracks. Rosalie was standing in their path with her arms crossed.

Alice smiled sweetly. "Rosalie, I'm Alice." She closed her eyes for a moment, and then looked back to Rosalie. "Your brothers will be returning in seven hours as long as they don't change their minds on which route to take home." Rosalie looked to Carlisle for reassurance as Alice continued, "I promise, you don't have to worry, we are not a threat to you or your family. Carlisle wants to hear more about us, and you should too."

Carlisle chuckled behind Alice, and she turned to smile at him. "I already have one family member who can read minds, am I going to have to deal with another?"

Alice giggled, "No sir, but I know a few things."

"Alice, you know my name, call me Carlisle." Alice smiled back at him warmly. "Let's talk in the parlor." Carlisle led the way.

Carlisle sat in his leather chair, the one that was closest to the fireplace. Esme and Rosalie sat on the larger couch facing the settee where Jasper sat up straight holding Alice close to him.

"Alice, please tell us about your gift," Esme began welcomingly.

Alice glanced at Jasper. "I have visions, but I can't see the past. When you make a decision, any decision, it makes waves which change the currents of fate. I can feel those changes, and if I'm paying close enough attention, I can see the effects of those changes in my mind."

Carlisle sat with his legs crossed and his fingers steepled listening intently. Esme tossed him a glance, and then looked back at Alice. "So you found us by seeing the effects of some decisions we've made?"

Alice nodded, smiling. "Actually, the first time I felt you was when you were in Chicago," she said as she turned to Carlisle.

"Chicago?" Carlisle's eyes were now wide because he did not recognize the scent of either of these newcomers. He had not sensed many vampires while he was there, and the ones he did meet thought he was too strange and steered clear of him.

"I was in the city when I felt a very strong change in the currents, one of the strongest I had ever felt up until then. When I followed the waves back to the source I found you. You had decided to move away from the city to make resisting feeding on humans easier for Edward. You were upset with yourself for having stayed so long after he was transformed." Alice's face was completely empathetic. "At the time I did not understand why you would want to live without human blood, but I had only been changed recently, and I had no guide. I was confused and angry."

Carlisle leaned forward, "So you felt the effects of my decision?"

Alice smiled, "You saved hundreds of lives that day when you decided to leave."

Carlisle felt a surprisingly strong sense of relief. He did not know that every parent goes through the same kind of heartache that he had with every decision he made for his family, but with Edward in particular he had agonized over every choice. He had felt keenly his accountability for making a new vampire, and that his decision had resulted in a human death. He was not entirely convinced that he was not going to hell for creating vampires who have killed. However, he would _never_ regret transforming any of the members of his family. He simply took responsibility for all of their transgressions on himself.

Alice reached out and laid her tiny cold hand on Carlisle's. "You have no idea how correct you were to make that choice. The humans who lived because of you will positively influence human society for generations." She smiled again. "So after I saw you that first time, I'd check on you occasionally, mostly out of fascination. I still did not understand you. As I wandered my own depression began to get worse, but you were becoming happier, and happier. You changed Esme, and when Edward returned to you and you found Rosalie, and then Emmett, I felt deeper and deeper waves from you." She glanced at them all, apparently unsure of how much to tell them. Carlisle wondered if his family was making waves like the kind Eleazar had insisted emanated from him.

Alice was frowning sadly as she continued, "Then, one day I was in a moment of despair, and I saw you had made the minor decision to spend the day with your family. You were planning to go hunting together, and the joy it brought you made me long to feel that kind of contentment so much, that without realizing it I had decided to come and find you. And the effects of that choice struck me more intensely than any other I had felt before." Her black eyes were wide, and her voice was soft as the memory filled her mind.

Jasper laid a comforting hand on her arm, and she was brought back to the present. She turned toward him and smiled again. "And in that vision, I saw for the first time that not only was I with your family, I was not alone. Jasper was there with me." The happiness of that day caused them both to smile at each other, and Alice laid her head on Jasper's shoulder.

Jasper looked up at Carlisle. "She found me here in Philadelphia a week ago, and literally walked into my desolate existence as abruptly as we have appeared on your doorstep. She brought me hope when she told me of you and your family."

Carlisle's brows lifted slightly as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "You want to learn to live like us."

"No." Everyone turned toward Esme, who sounded as if she was denying the request, but then they saw she was smiling. "No, they want to live _with_ us."

Esme stood up and took Alice into her arms. Alice knew that the decision had been made, and Carlisle would go along with it after he had spent some more time with them. Rosalie stiffened slightly, but she too had been affected by their story, and finally she also stood up and offered Jasper a handshake.

Jasper took her hand but turned it backside up and bent to kiss it. "Miss Rosalie, it's an honor," he said nodding to her, and Rosalie could not help but break into a small smile in return for any true flattery.

"It's lovely to meet you both," Rosalie said graciously and then she finally smiled down at Alice.

Alice stood up and almost jumped on Rosalie as she hugged her. "Oh! I have a sister now!" Carlisle saw Rosalie's face melt into a genuine smile when Alice used the word "sister."

"And two more brothers!" Esme giggled as she squeezed Jasper's hand.

Carlisle stood up and everyone turned toward him. "You need to feed, but would you like to wait for their return?"

Alice turned to Jasper. His face was tight, but he nodded, "Seven hours will be fine."

Alice smiled, "Good! I have to give them their gifts!" She reached down to where she had set the large blue box and handed it to Esme. "For our new family."

Esme smiled and untied the bow on the large box and Alice explained each gift. There was a set of tools for Esme "for your next project," a pearl necklace for Rosalie "for your next wedding to Emmett," a fountain pen for Carlisle "for when you sign your final dissertation," a new baseball for Emmett "because he's going to crush one in our first game as a family when I strike him out," and a record for Edward, _Jackie Brenston with His Delta Cats: Rocket 88_, "trust me, he's going to love it."

Esme smiled when she hugged Alice and Jasper tightly again. "I'm so sorry we have nothing to give you in return!"

Alice smiled back, "I'd like Edward's room, please."

Everyone laughed. Rosalie took Alice's hand and grinned broadly. "I know the perfect place for all of his junk. And I'll help you move your things in."


	22. Chapter 20: 2005

CHAPTER 20

~~2005~~

TWILIGHT

Carlisle stood on the back deck of his house looking out over the river. The first meeting of the evening had gone relatively well and the Black family, the modern descendents of Black Fur, was still amenable if not entirely friendly. Carlisle did not blame the Quileute for being cautious and inhospitable since the Cullens had returned to Forks two years ago; the original story was, after all, over 150 years old. But they trusted their own legends which went back over a millennia, and the oral tradition trumped everything, including modern science. Carlisle's dedication to modern medicine was yet another reason the Quileute mistrusted him.

Carlisle had been called to the territorial border in the woods because apparently the Elders had been reading the signs and saw trouble coming. Carlisle had no new information to give them but conceded that his family was a possible lightning rod for trouble in the area.

"Do you know of _more_ of your kind coming to the river forks?" Billy Black, the current tribal leader, asked with narrowed eyes.

Carlisle shook his head and his forehead creased with a small frown. "No, I depend upon Alice to warn us of any upcoming encounters, and she has not seen anything that would alarm her. Even if our friends from Alaska came to visit, we would be sure to warn you and inform them of the treaty."

Billy still seemed unsatisfied and Carlisle now looked slightly sideways at him. "Is there any information that you have and need to share with me?"

Billy looked over at one of the Elders, and then back to Carlisle who was still eyeing him with a creased brow. "No. We part in peace."

Carlisle did so, and jogged back to his house. The meeting had gone well, but the Elders' unwillingness to be completely open with him left him with a lingering sense of uneasiness.

Then almost as soon as Carlisle arrived back at the house, he felt the tension level in the house rise exponentially as his sons and daughters arrived home from school. Without saying a word, he walked directly into the impromptu second meeting of the day in his own dining room.

Edward had returned from exile just two before. Being separated from Edward was something that Carlisle never endured well, especially when he knew Edward was suffering. Edward had left because the daughter of the chief of police, Bella Swan, had tempted his bloodlust like no other human Edward had ever encountered. It was a torment on the senses that Carlisle had only felt once before, and he had chosen at the time to immediately leave the village and never go back. Edward, however, had chosen to return home. When Carlisle asked him why Edward was reluctant to explain; so Carlisle was left to wonder at his son's motivations, and at his strange insistence that they stay and not move the family. Carlisle decided to put his faith in his son and let the matter drop.

Edward's first day back at school, however, had almost resulted in Edward breaking the highest law of keeping the secret. He had saved Bella from being crushed in a car accident using his incredible speed and strength, and as a result Bella Swan knew without a doubt that there was something different about the Cullen family.

The meeting that night in the dining room had _not_ gone well and had ended on an ambiguous note. Alice had informed them that Edward was destined to fall in love with Bella Swan and that she saw two futures: one showed Edward holding Bella's lifeless corpse after he had drained her blood, and the second showed Bella part of the family and transformed into a vampire. Edward was so distraught by this news he ran out of the back of the house and jumped the river to be alone.

Carlisle left the dining room after Edward escaped, not making eye contact with any of his conflicted children or even with Esme. He slowly walked out the back door and now stood on the porch looking over the river Edward had just jumped.

Carlisle began to contemplate possible connections between the two meetings that day. Was the changing destiny of Edward and this human girl somehow related to the premonitions of the Quileute? He now realized that what he had considered to be a private family problem might have been information he should have shared with the Quileute and could have prompted them to hold back from him.

The rest of the family was obviously going to be affected by whatever was in store for Edward, but would that effect be positive or rip the family apart? Rosalie and Jasper were already showing significant signs of dissention; both had been ready to kill Bella Swan to protect the others. Carlisle was deeply concerned about how easily they had both decided that a human had to die.

Carlisle bowed his head slightly. He sometimes felt badly taking Edward's side on so many of the family arguments, but Edward was often the most in line with Carlisle's particular views on ethical conduct. And he would never agree to ending a human life for their benefit. He had to find a way to reach out to Rosalie and Jasper and make them feel validated while remaining unswerving in his support to Edward.

Just as Carlisle thought about Jasper, the back door swung open and Jasper walked outside to stand at attention next to Carlisle. They stood side by side for several moments before Jasper finally spoke.

"Carlisle, I apologize for my rash judgment," Jasper muttered.

Carlisle's relief manifested in a slight smile, "Jasper, I know we have a slightly different set of priorities, but you are the next oldest in this family after me and I respect your experience and instincts. I only disagree with one thing: killing to make Alice safe. I truly do believe that we can ensure her safety without resorting to violence."

Jasper nodded but he frowned deeply. "I have tried to use mercy so many times, and it has failed twice as often as it has succeeded. Carlisle, I cannot live with that chance if Alice's life is in jeopardy."

Carlisle sighed, "I understand, but please believe that I will defend a human life, any human life, as intensely as a vampire, especially a vampire from my family. And that includes you, son." As Carlisle spoke he felt the familiar warmth growing in his chest but despite his effort to hold it in check he felt it expand beyond his body.

Jasper suddenly shifted his weight away from Carlisle, and he turned his head in Carlisle's direction.

Carlisle had seen that reaction many times before. He put his hands up, "I'm sorry, Jasper, I don't have complete control over that."

Jasper's eyes were wide. "Carlisle, Eleazar told me about your gift when we met him back in the seventies, but that is the strongest wave I've ever felt from you. And it – it actually made me feel _different_."

Carlisle's brow creased. "Different? How?"

Jasper thought for a moment but shrugged. "I'm not sure. I feel better about the human girl, but I don't know why."

Carlisle sighed, "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

Jasper shook his head and looked into Carlisle's eyes, "No, Carlisle. Alice is my life, but you gave me a home. Living with your family has made me more content than I ever felt before in both my mortal and immortal lives." The sincerity of Jasper's expression made Carlisle smile. "I won't betray that. I would leave my comfort and happiness here behind before I would ever betray you."

Carlisle nodded, "Thank you, son. I can't tell you how much that eases my mind."

Jasper leaned forward onto the railing and Carlisle did the same. "Should I go after him? Apologize?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No, he needs to work out what Alice told us tonight on his own."

Jasper nodded. "And what is your opinion?"

Carlisle lifted a brow. "On what?"

"On Edward falling in love with a human," Jasper said with a little tension still in his voice.

Carlisle sighed again. "I think… that everything is going to change for us. This situation feels bigger than just our family. And, I'm afraid that Alice may not be seeing all possible ends."

Jasper nodded. "Now you understand my dilemma."

Carlisle nodded in agreement. They stood on the porch together for several more hours in commiserate silence. Carlisle knew in his cold heart that the two meetings that day had been entirely related. He was very troubled by the fact that the Quileute saw the coming changes as a bad omen because he trusted their instincts.

Alice was waiting for Carlisle in the entry hall when he walked into the house from the hospital.

Carlisle lifted a brow. "You have some news?"

Alice grinned. "The weather is just right for a ball game."

Carlisle laughed as he walked down the hall and put down his briefcase. "I caught the scent of that storm." Then he looked back at her. "Anything more about the movements of our friends?" Alice had warned Carlisle that morning about a small coven of vampires moving closer to the area.

Alice closed her eyes for a moment and then smiled. "They are moving north, they are leaving."

Esme put her head out a doorway, followed by Rosalie. "So are we on for a game?"

Carlisle smiled. "All right, call the boys, I'll clean up and head over to set up the bases."

Twenty minutes later Carlisle and Esme were running out to the field when Esme turned to Carlisle. "Edward is bringing Bella." She could not hide her satisfaction.

Carlisle lifted his brows. "Really?" Then he smiled back at Esme. "Have you spoken to him about her yet?"

Esme nodded. "Only to say that I enjoyed listening to him play the piano for her this afternoon. He told her your entire story today."

"Yes, I was surprised that she was so interested," Carlisle replied, still a little bewildered.

Esme turned to Carlisle. "Don't you see, my love?"

"See what?" Carlisle's brow creased.

Esme giggled. "She is trying to learn as much as she can about her new family."

Carlisle frowned.

"What is it?" Esme said putting a hand on Carlisle's arm.

Carlisle could not stop the sinking feeling in his chest as he slowed to a stop and looked at Esme. "I understand that she loves Edward, and I know he loves her back, but she wants to be one of us?"

Esme squeezed his arm. "She wants to be with Edward. And she wants to be part of a loving family."

Carlisle smiled at Esme. "She already is a part of this family."

Carlisle was measuring out the bases when Edward and Bella arrived in the Jeep, mostly because Esme didn't trust any of the others to measure properly. Carlisle watched how Edward kept his arm around Bella protectively and how easily his smiles came. The change in Edward reminded Carlisle of how much he had changed when Edward and Esme entered his life and pulled him back from the brink.

The game proceeded with almost no arguing. Carlisle was amused that the family seemed to be on their best behavior. He had hit a home run so his team was ahead by two runs by the time he was at bat again. But as he lifted his bat for Alice's pitch, she suddenly gasped and looked at Edward who instantly ran to Bella's side.

"They heard us playing, and it changed their path," Alice said remorsefully.

Carlisle's jaw tensed and he turned to Edward. "How soon?"

Edward grimaced. "Less than five minutes. They're running – they want to play."

"Can you make it?" Carlisle looked back at Bella.

"No, not carrying – besides the last thing we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting," Edward growled.

"How many?" Emmett asked Alice.

"Three," she said tersely.

"Three?" Emmett scoffed. "Let them come." He laughed.

Carlisle pursed his lips as he deliberated for a moment and then he nodded to the others, "Let's just continue the game. Alice said they were simply curious." Then he thought in his mind, _Son, we more than out-number them._ _She will not be harmed._

Edward whispered low and fast, "Carlisle, do you really believe diplomacy can win in this situation?"

Carlisle frowned. _I do not hold much hope, son, but I will try diplomacy first. This is our home and I will not allow them to endanger our family._

Edward looked sadly into Carlisle's fierce eyes and whispered, "Thank you."

"Have they sensed her presence?" Esme said in a quick whisper Bella could not hear. Edward shook his head, and Esme sighed with relief.

They kept the ball in the infield and within seconds Carlisle, Rosalie and Jasper turned first, and the others a moment later toward the whisper-quiet approach of the vampires. One by one they cleared the edge of the forest.

Carlisle didn't even have to give a signal. He knew that Edward and Esme would cover Bella. Emmett and Jasper were already flanking Carlisle on either side. Rosalie and Alice stood between the front three and the back three covering both their partners in front and their mother and brother behind them. He lifted his chin as the three vampires stopped about ten meters from the Cullens.

The Cullens all stood upright and their refined dress and manner was in strange contrast to the worn and wild appearance of the nomads. The nomads straightened their spines but kept a more informal stature. The first vampire had long, dark hair and smiled as he took one more step forward toward Carlisle.

"We thought we heard a game. I am Laurent, this is Victoria and James." He had a slight French accent, an easy smile and bright white teeth which contrasted with his dark skin and sinister burgundy eyes which narrowed slightly as he gestured to his two companions. Victoria had curly mane of shockingly red hair and catlike grace. She was constantly shifting her weight and her leather pants creaked slightly as she moved. James wore blue jeans and a leather jacket with no shirt and had rugged features and long light-brown hair that was pulled back in a leather thong.

Carlisle assessed each of them and felt no extraordinary talent from any of them. _Tread carefully, Edward. Don't provoke them_. "I'm Carlisle. This is my family, Emmett and Jasper, Rosalie and Alice, Esme, Edward and Bella."

"Hello," Laurent grinned as his eyes swept the group. "Do you have room for a few more players?" He asked casually. He sounded delighted at meeting such a large group and at the prospect of engaging in some recreational sport.

Carlisle smiled, and matched the social tone Laurent was taking. "Actually, we were just finishing up. But we'd certainly be interested another time. Are you planning to stay in the area for long?"

Laurent waved his hand dismissively. "We're headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the neighborhood. We haven't run into any company in a long time."

Carlisle could tell that Laurent meant that he was seeking others. Carlisle reassessed the coven. James and Victoria were clearly committed to each other. Laurent seemed a bit of an outsider, despite the fact that he was the speaker. Carlisle realized that was exactly what was happening. _Edward, Laurent is speaking for himself, but James is watching our reactions to Laurent. James is the leader_.

Carlisle nodded. "No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves." Carlisle very purposefully let them know that they were not welcome to stay for an extended period. He was far more concerned with Edward's peace of mind than being cordial to any outsiders.

Laurent got the message. "What's your hunting range?" he asked pleasantly.

Carlisle ignored the assumption because he did not want to move much beyond the pleasantries. "The Olympic Range here, up and down the Coast Ranges on occasion." But Carlisle was also sensitive to the fact that Laurent was trying to extend the conversation because he actually wanted new acquaintances. "We keep a permanent residence nearby. There's another permanent settlement like ours up near Denali."

Laurent looked shocked. "Permanent? How do you manage that?" His voice betrayed honest curiosity, and Carlisle heard James sniff derisively and his eyes shifted to James.

Carlisle made a quick decision. _Edward, he wants to leave this coven. We can take care of two problems here. Get Bella out of here, and I will chaperone these three to our house. Bella will be safer if we escort them home and then out of the area when we are done talking_.

"Why don't you come back to our home with us and we can talk comfortably? It's a rather long story." Carlisle watched as James and Victoria exchanged a surprised look.

Laurent, however, kept his smile genial. "That sounds very interesting. And welcome. We've been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven't had the chance to clean up in a while." Laurent was clearly envious of Carlisle's refined appearance and lifestyle.

Carlisle nodded. "Please don't take offense, but we'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from hunting in this immediate area. We have to stay inconspicuous, you understand." Carlisle wanted to make sure to underline the fact that he was in control of what happened to the humans in area before he let Bella out of his sight.

"Of course," Laurent agreed, nodding. "We certainly won't encroach on your territory. We just ate outside of Seattle, anyway," he laughed.

Carlisle did not laugh. "We'll show you the way if you'd like to run with us – Emmett and Alice, you can go with Edward and Bella to get the Jeep," he added offhandedly.

Carlisle began to turn in the direction of the house, and Laurent turned to follow but James and Victoria did not move, their eyes on the rest of the group. Then a small gust of wind swept the field and Carlisle heard Edward growl.

Carlisle moved directly between James and Edward. _Edward, do not move unless he attacks!! Hold steady, son!_

"What's this?" Laurent exclaimed.

"She's with us." Carlisle said firmly and he was not speaking to Laurent any longer, he was addressing James directly. He felt the warmth in the center of his chest growing.

James's eyes narrowed as he realized Carlisle had a full understanding of the situation. Then a menacing grin spread on his face. "You brought a snack?" he said as he took a step forward which prompted Edward to snarl even more ferociously, his lip curling. Laurent stepped back.

"I said, she's with _us_," Carlisle's voice was becoming hard and his expression fierce. The warmth in his chest grew hotter.

"But she's _human_," Laurent protested incredulously.

"Yes," Carlisle said without moving an inch, his fiery amber eyes holding James's bloody gaze. Emmett leaned forward toward James, every inch of his muscles poised.

Laurent looked from one to the other and spoke in soothing tones. "It appears we have a lot to learn about each other."

"Indeed," Carlisle said coolly.

"But we'd like to accept your invitation. And, of course, we will not harm the human girl. We won't hunt in your range, as I said." Laurent added emphasis to the last three words.

James had had enough, and he showed Laurent his aggravation. Victoria waited to see what would happen, but the slight smile on her lips showed that she knew who would remain the dominant male in her coven.

_Edward, go NOW, before this goes any further,_ Carlisle thought urgently. Edward immediately moved Bella toward the trees and Emmett and Alice followed.

Rosalie took Emmett's place at Carlisle's side and Esme stood right behind them. Carlisle gestured to the left, and Laurent nodded.

James however, growled low. "You don't smell right."

Carlisle looked down his nose at James, who was still in his attack crouch watching Edward and Bella as they reached the trees. "If you look at us I think you will find that our eyes look different as well." Carlisle heard Edward pick up Bella and run with the others to the Jeep.

Laurent was closer to Carlisle's eyes and he looked at them. "I could not place what was different until now. What _are_ you?"

Carlisle looked at all three of them in turn and then spoke with conviction. "We are all _animal_-feeders." Carlisle could hear the Jeep was safely away.

James stood up and began laughing. Victoria walked over to him, curled her arm around his waist and joined in.

Laurent did not laugh. "You don't feed on humans _at all_?"

Carlisle turned to Laurent. "I am a physician, I _heal_ humans." The warmth in his chest was now reaching the edges of his skin, and as he felt it spill over he suddenly pushed it outward and one large wave.

James and Victoria stopped laughing and all three visitors shuddered. Jasper was used to his adoptive father's influence, and barely blinked. James looked at Carlisle with a completely stunned expression and his arrogance wavered for the first time. Victoria shrank, and shifted slightly behind James. Laurent was speechless.

Then James recovered himself, and smirked. "If you heal, that means you don't kill. Which means, the _hunt_ is on." James grinned, flashing his teeth, and without another word he ran for the tree line in the direction of Edward and Bella, and Victoria followed. Laurent did not move.

Jasper, Rosalie and Esme waited for Carlisle to make the next move. He frowned at Laurent. "Come with me."

Carlisle heard Bella's heartbeat and her truck approaching. Her truck was thunderous and growling, and her heart was beating frantically and unevenly. He watched as Emmett tucked Bella into his large arms and bolted from the truck to the house and Edward scanned the sky and surrounding area as he followed with one hand on Emmett's back. Carlisle felt a great stab of anguish watching his sons behave as if they were at war; and they were. It is the greatest fear of a parent to see their children decide to fight and risk their lives willingly for something they believe in. They were all about to put their lives on the line for Edward's happiness and the human girl he loved.

Carlisle turned back to Laurent who was looking at the ground remorsefully. Edward and Emmett burst into the house and Edward locked the door behind him as Emmett set Bella on her feet and growled at Laurent.

"He's tracking us," Edward said angrily.

Laurent frowned. "I was afraid of that."

Alice danced over to Jasper and whispered into his ear so quietly Carlisle only caught a few words. "…Drive south… J. Jenks just in case…may have to fly…" Then Alice and Jasper dashed up the stairs. Carlisle grimaced. He hoped that they would not have to use their enigmatic lawyer/counterfeiter to hide Bella internationally, but he was grateful that Alice was looking to all possible ends.

Carlisle looked at Laurent. "What will he do?" he said in a chilling tone.

"I'm sorry. When your boy there defended her, it set him off." Laurent sounded genuinely upset.

"Can you stop him?" Carlisle's golden eyes burned.

Laurent shook his head. "Nothing stops James when he gets started."

"We'll stop him," Emmett said with complete confidence.

Laurent glanced at Emmett then looked back at Carlisle. "You can't bring him down. I've never seen anything like him in my three hundred years. He's absolutely lethal. That's why I joined his coven." Laurent knew that Carlisle was well aware of his situation and for the first time Carlisle's eyes softened slightly. Laurent glanced at Bella then back at Carlisle. "Are you sure it's worth it?"

Edward's enraged roar filled the room; Laurent cringed back as Carlisle stepped forward and put a hand in the middle of Edward's chest. _Son, if Bella is going to be with us, you are going to have to learn to control your responses to their perception of her_. "I'm afraid you're going to have to make a choice," he said gravely to Laurent.

Laurent nodded, and then his eyes swept the room. "I'm intrigued by the life you've created here. But I won't get in the middle of this. I bear none of you any enmity, but I won't go against James. I will head north to that clan in Denali." Laurent looked at Edward and Bella. "Don't underestimate James. He's got a brilliant mind and unparalleled senses. He's every bit as comfortable in the human world as you seem to be, and he won't come at you head on. I'm sorry for what's been unleashed here. Truly sorry."

"Go in peace," Carlisle said formally. Laurent took another long look around the house and then hurried out. Esme was already zipping around the main room touching keypads and large metal shutters began sealing up the large glass wall at the back of the house. Carlisle immediately turned to Edward. "How close?"

"About three miles out past the river; he's circling around to meet up with the female," Edward said with a tight jaw and his arms around Bella.

"What's the plan?" Emmett said flexing his muscles.

"We'll lead him off, then Jasper and Alice will run Bella south," Carlisle said as he walked toward the garage, everyone followed him.

"And then?" Esme asked.

"As soon as Bella is clear, we hunt him," Edward's tone was vicious.

Esme glanced toward Carlisle and their eyes met. "I guess there is no other choice," he said grimly.

Esme whispered, "No, there isn't my love. It is the right choice."

Edward looked at Rosalie and nodded toward Bella. "Get her upstairs and trade clothes."

"Why should I? What is she to me? Except a menace – a danger you've chosen to inflict on all of us," Rosalie hissed.

Carlisle had been testing the GPS systems on all of the cars but stepped out of the Mercedes as Emmett put a hand on Rosalie's shoulder. "Rose…"

_Edward – let me handle this_. Then Carlisle spoke low and fast so only the family could hear him. "Since our meeting the situation has changed: Bella is with Edward. She is part of this family now. If you have any complaints about Bella that are not personal then I will hear them now." Rosalie stared lividly at Edward, but dropped her eyes without looking at Carlisle. "In that case, as part of our family we will protect Bella, as I would protect any of you." Carlisle looked at every face in the room and did not see any dissention. He knew that if he addressed Bella's position in the family directly they would all realize what was at stake. He walked past Edward to a set of drawers. _Leave Rosalie alone, Edward. Have Esme switch clothes with Bella_.

Edward turned to his right. "Esme?"

"Of course," she said quietly, and she quickly swung Bella up into her arms and dashed upstairs.

Carlisle handed a tiny silver phone to Rosalie. "You really are willing to sacrifice one of us for her safety?" she said sadly, her venom gone; she looked almost frightened.

"Have you ever seen Edward this happy?" Rosalie was forced to shake her head, no. "And you recall what a risk I took changing Emmett?" Rosalie nodded yes. "For your brother's happiness, as I did for yours, I am willing to risk everything. Do you understand?"

Rosalie frowned. "I don't envy her, I envy her humanity."

Carlisle nodded. "I know. Just give it time. You two are more alike than you realize. You are both willing to do anything for love."

Carlisle was speeding through the streets of Phoenix. "Left, Carlisle!" Alice yelled with a clear voice. They had hidden Bella in a hotel and led James and Victoria with a false trail for days, but the experienced tracker had figured out their plan. Victoria found where they had hidden Bella and James eventually managed to separate her from their protective grasp and lured her to her old ballet studio.

"Left again!" With each command Carlisle slammed the breaks and spun the wheel, and the tires of his Mercedes squealed as he took each turn in a controlled drift.

"THERE!" Alice yelled. As soon as Carlisle spun the car to a stop they all sprang from their doors, and Edward took off. Even as they followed, Carlisle heard him already inside tossing James across the ballet studio. Carlisle led the others inside and went straight for Edward, who had James in a death grip.

Carlisle crossed the room in a flash and put a gentle hand on Edward's shoulder. "Son – _enough_." Edward turned to look at his father, bloodlust shining from his eyes. "Remember who you are." Carlisle nodded at Edward. _You are not a monster._

Edward remembered speaking those words to Carlisle as his father held him during his transformation, and then he released his grasp on James. Emmett and Jasper pulled James away.

"Bella needs you!" Carlisle ran over to Alice who was trying to stop the bleeding with her own hands, but she was also turning her head and leaning away with a grimace on her face. Edward followed.

"Alice! GO!" Carlisle called. Alice ran off and Carlisle heard James' final scream as Alice twisted off James' head. Jasper had started a fire and he and Emmett finished dismembering the rest of James' body. Carlisle leaned over Bella and checked her head wound.

"Bella!" Edward sobbed.

"She's lost some blood, but the head wound isn't deep. Watch out for her leg, it's broken," Carlisle said calmly. Bella was moaning with pain as Carlisle probed further. "Some ribs, too, I think."

"Bella, you're going to be fine. Can you hear me, Bella?" Edward said desperately.

Carlisle turned to look for where he had dropped his bag.

"It hurts," Bella cried.

"I know Bella, I know – can't you do anything?" Edward cried to Carlisle.

Carlisle was still assessing Bella's leg. "Edward, my bag, please!"

Edward zipped over to where Carlisle pointed, and brought it back in a split second. Carlisle pulled out a syringe of morphine, but then suddenly he took a sniff. And his head turned toward Bella's right arm. _Edward, I smell –_

"My hand is burning!" Bella screamed.

Carlisle had already picked up Bella's arm and was staring with horror. "He bit her!" Carlisle's anger nearly boiled over.

Alice had returned from the fire and was crouching near them. "Edward, you have to let her transform."

"No!" Edward bellowed.

Carlisle frowned. "There may be a chance. See if you can suck the venom back out. The wound is fairly clean." After an injection of morphine, Carlisle had begun to quickly stitch up Bella's head.

"Will that work?" Alice said worriedly.

"I don't know, but we have to hurry." Carlisle was throwing his stitches faster; the cut was long and he was already up to thirty-two stitches.

"Carlisle, I don't know if I can do that," Edward's voice was anguished.

"It's your decision, Edward, either way. I can't help you. I have to get this bleeding stopped here if you're going to be taking blood from her hand." _Son, I have faith in you_. Bella was writhing from the pain. "Alice, get me something to brace her leg!"

Edward's jaw tightened and he lifted Bella's wrist to his lips. Carlisle could sense the smell of the venom decreasing and then fading to nothing.

"Is it all out?" Carlisle finished his last stitch and then turned toward his son. He could see Edward's will faltering. "Edward, _stop_!" He put a hand on Edward's shoulder.

Edward strained as he pulled away from Bella's wrist and fell backward on his heels. Carlisle quickly took her hand away from him. "Her blood tastes clean. I can taste the morphine," Edward gasped. He seemed nearly spent with the effort, but he laid a cool hand on Bella's newly stitched head.

Carlisle turned back toward Edward and smiled. _Well done, son. I have been impressed by your control around Bella, but this is a new level of restraint. I am very proud of you_. He could see that the edges of the wound were already livid with venom damage, which meant she would bear the scar and he couldn't stitch the skin shut, but he quickly repaired her vessels and then wrapped her wrist in gauze.

"Bella, is the fire gone?" Carlisle said urgently.

"Yes, thank you, Edward," she mumbled.

"I love you," Edward whispered.

"Bella, where is your mother?" Carlisle finished taping Bella's wrist and was quickly wrapping her leg against the piece of wood Alice had used as a brace.

"In Florida. He tricked me," she groaned against the pain.

"It's time to move her," Carlisle said with authority. Edward picked her up and continued to whisper into Bella's ear. Carlisle turned to Jasper and Emmett. "Boys, let's go!"

Carlisle heard Edward whispering as they all ran for the car. "Sleep now, Bella."

Carlisle was standing in the nurses' station reading Bella's MRI report that confirmed that Bella had escaped any permanent harm. The effects on everyone involved had been more psychological than physical.

Edward had been faced with allowing Bella to transform, but instead chose to save her mortal life. Carlisle was extremely proud of his son's choices, and also sad for him and his continued torment from loving a human girl. He was also very proud of his family because when Bella was in mortal danger they had succeeded in saving her. Carlisle's only regret was that vampires like James were such determined killers with a complete disregard for human life and that the only way to stop him was to destroy him. In addition, James' mate Victoria, was still unaccounted for. But Carlisle would have to let her go for the moment and just appreciate that his family and all humans involved in the situation were alive and well.

The elevator doors opened and Carlisle heard and smelled Charlie Swan, Bella's father, running down the hall. Carlisle casually walked out into the hall so that Charlie would recognize him and see him reading Bella's chart.

"Dr. Cullen!! Dr. Cullen!!" Charlie called out, and then waved his hand when Carlisle looked around to see who was calling his name.

Carlisle closed the chart and smiled reassuringly. "Charlie, I'm glad you got here so quickly. Come with me, I want to introduce you to Bella's physician – "

Charlie put a hand up, "No, no, I need to see Bella, please!"

Carlisle considered insisting that they discuss what had happened first, but he could feel Charlie's pain and intense need to be reassured. "OK, let's go see her, but then we'll talk, all right?"

Charlie frowned but nodded. Carlisle led the way and spoke quietly as they walked, "She is still asleep from the medication they gave her when they set her broken leg and repaired the wounds from the glass of the window she fell into, but other than that she will be just fine." Carlisle stopped just outside the door of the room. "Also, Edward and Emmett are inside, I'll make sure they leave. Please, go easy on Edward; he's been completely thrown by this entire episode."

Charlie stiffened at the mention of Edward's name, but then he seemed to empathize with the idea that Edward was as confused and upset by this situation as he had been. He frowned up at Carlisle. "We'll talk about that later too."

Carlisle smiled and then he opened the door. "Boys, give Chief Swan a moment with his daughter, please," Carlisle said with quiet authority. Charlie seemed to approve of the tone Carlisle had used with his full-grown sons.

Emmett and Edward both stood up. Emmett took off his baseball cap and nodded to Charlie as he headed out of the room. Edward appeared to want to say something apologetic but Carlisle shook his head from behind Charlie. _Not now, Edward._ So Edward closed his mouth, nodded to Charlie and followed Emmett. Charlie turned to watch Edward leave, and then looked up at Carlisle who quietly backed out the door and closed it behind him.

Carlisle turned to the boys who were standing just outside the door, and saw Jasper and Alice walking up the hall.

"Chief Swan is much calmer now that he's seen her," Jasper said quietly, Alice squeezed his arm. "We just spoke to Esme; she and Rosalie are picking up Bella's mother at the airport." Jasper turned toward the door, "You'd better go in and reassure him, Carlisle, he's starting to feel overwhelmed."

Carlisle patted Edward on the shoulder because every muscle in his body was tense as he struggled to keep himself out of Bella's room. Emmett put a restraining hand on Edward and frowned at Carlisle as he walked back in.

"Charlie, why don't you come and talk to her physician so you can understand everything that happened?" Carlisle said very soothingly.

Charlie sniffed slightly and quickly wiped his nose before he cleared his throat and finally turned back to Carlisle's warm, reassuring face. "Uh, sure, Dr. Cullen," Charlie mumbled and cleared his throat again. He squeezed his daughter's hand and then put it gently down on the bed and followed Carlisle out of the room.

The two fathers walked past the group of Cullens standing silently outside the door. Charlie did his best not to stare but could not help but look a little longer than normal at Carlisle's striking brood. Carlisle could tell what he was thinking, but decided to deflect any comments about how attractive or out of place they looked. "They are all very worried about Bella. They've all become quite close in such a short amount of time. I've never seen them open up to someone so quickly," Carlisle said with a smile.

Charlie turned to look over at Carlisle and nodded, "Yeah, she, uh, seems to be really close with Alice."

Carlisle chuckled. "Edward has a hard time getting a word in when Alice is around."

That comment seemed to please Charlie and he said, "Hmph," which was half a grunt of acknowledgment and half a laugh.

Carlisle smiled to himself. He had always liked Charlie; he was the most honest person Carlisle had met this time in Forks. And apparently Carlisle had passed some sort of unwritten test that earned Charlie's trust, too, because Charlie always called Carlisle first when there was any problem that required medical intervention. Charlie had become a bit more standoffish when Edward's intentions toward Bella became public, but Charlie was a professional, and still respected Carlisle's authority and expertise. Carlisle felt certain that Edward would win over Charlie eventually, and a reserved friendship would definitely be possible with between the fathers. At least, it might be possible until there was some kind of clarity regarding Alice's vision of Bella's future…

Carlisle was as conflicted as Edward on the subject, but for different reasons. Edward was still unconvinced by their regular debates that vampires had any connection to God, much less a soul once they killed another human. Thus he felt certain that Carlisle had a soul, but Edward was sure that Bella would slip as every other member of the family had and he was never going to change her until he found some kind of comfort or assurance that Bella's soul would remain intact.

Carlisle was conflicted because he had never been a part of changing a healthy, growing human with a positive future into a vampire. He could not be a part of that in good conscience. If Edward had decided to change her at the critical moment that they had just faced, Carlisle would have welcomed it. But now that she was safe and well, Carlisle knew he could never take Charlie's daughter from him out of his own desire to see his son eternally happy.

Carlisle opened the door to the doctor's lounge and looked in. "Dr. Johnson? Would you please come and meet Chief Swan?"

A tiny, slightly round, middle-aged black woman stood up and waved at Carlisle. "Of course, Dr. Cullen." He heard her heart rate increase as she smiled at him and he returned the smile kindly. She reached out to Charlie as they walked out of the lounge. "Hello, Chief Swan, I am Dr. Johnson. Your daughter is going to be perfectly fine in a couple of days, but I'm sure Dr. Cullen has already told you that," she smiled up at Carlisle again, and Charlie rolled his eyes just a bit. Carlisle suppressed a chuckle. Charlie had endured many females swooning over Carlisle when Charlie was trying to discuss business with him.

Carlisle sat and listened in silence while Dr. Johnson went over all of Bella's test results, giving Charlie way too much information. When they finally left the room because Alice came to let them know that Renee had arrived, Charlie stopped Carlisle in the hallway.

"Um, all that meant that she's fine, right?" Charlie grumbled.

Carlisle smiled. "Yes."

Charlie nodded and sighed, "Thanks, for… for everything."

Carlisle nodded, "It's my job Charlie, but my son is involved, and I consider you a friend. So I can assure you, I am quite on top of this situation."

Charlie shifted uncomfortably and grimaced as he paused considering his words. "Edward, he… really does seem to like her."

Carlisle smiled again. "Well, this is a little more intense, I think, Charlie. I feel fairly certain that, despite the overly dramatic context of being a teenager… Edward is in love with Bella."

Charlie seemed to take that news the hardest of any other news he had gotten since he arrived at the hospital. He took a step toward the hallway wall, leaned back against it and sighed.

Carlisle regarded him sympathetically. "I can promise you, Charlie, Edward will continue his completely _honorable_ behavior." Carlisle allowed a very subtle tone of danger to enter his voice, and Charlie looked at the floor and smiled.

Charlie looked back up at Carlisle, "You ever been in my position, doc?"

Carlisle nodded and frowned, "With Rosalie. She was the one who found Emmett, my oldest adopted son. He was essentially a stranger, but had a good upbringing before he was orphaned. She begged me to take him in because she feared what would happen to him if I didn't. It was a leap of faith, and considering I knew how they both felt about each other, it was a… challenge."

Charlie shook his head. "I don't think I could handle that."

Carlisle repeated his position with a smile, "I am on top of the situation, and so is Esme."

Just then Esme walked up with one arm around Bella's mother, who appeared nearly overcome with anxiety.

Carlisle nodded at Charlie and they both went to reassure Renee that Bella was fine. Carlisle was as afraid of the future as Charlie was, but he was now certain the changes that had been predicted just a few months before were inevitable. He silently prayed that he, and the rest of his family, would be ready for what was to come.


	23. Chapter 21: 2005

CHAPTER 21

~~2005~~

NEW MOON

"You'd better play along with this, or she's going to have your head," Esme hissed as she straightened Carlisle's collar.

Carlisle feigned innocence. "I promise to behave."

Esme growled and Carlisle placed a light kiss on her forehead then slipped out of the room and down the stairs chuckling as he went. He simply enjoyed winding her up when he had the opportunity, and he had suggested to Esme that he might aid Edward in escaping with Bella before Alice began the "Happy Birthday" chorus.

Alice was calling everyone to order just as Carlisle reached the bottom of the stairs. "They will be here soon everyone!" She didn't have to yell, they could hear each other whisper from the far corners of the house, but she enjoyed how her ringing voice echoed from the foyer.

Carlisle dutifully headed for the formal living room and paused for a moment to appreciate Alice's talents. Every surface was covered with crystal bowls filled with hundreds of roses. Along the windowsills and at the edges of the room, large round pink candles bathed the room with warm dancing light. The room lights had been dimmed, and a table covered with a white tablecloth near Edward's piano held a tiered birthday cake with Bella's name on the top and a stack of glass plates next to the small pile of gifts wrapped in silver paper. Alice was incorrigible, but Carlisle had to admit she also had amazing style.

Carlisle wondered sometimes if Alice got all of her ideals about human life from _Martha Stewart_ and _Modern Living_ magazines. It worried him sometimes that she felt she needed to compensate for having no memory of her human life by creating these elaborate shows. Sometimes, however, Carlisle felt certain she simply appreciated beauty and made it her mission to make the world around her beautiful and happy.

Carlisle took up his position, seating himself on the contemporary couches, and while he waited for the others he flipped open a medical journal. Emmett arrived next, pulling Rosalie along behind him and whispering encouraging words in her ear. Alice and Esme arrived last with Jasper behind them.

Carlisle watched as Jasper entered the room and he could instantly tell that his newest son was having a difficult day with his thirst. Carlisle considered stopping the party immediately, but as he continued to watch Jasper he could see the young man slowly and methodically relax each major group of muscles in his body as he held perfectly still and at attention in the back of the room. Carlisle swelled with pride. Jasper was using every method they had discussed to control his instincts, and he was succeeding. Carlisle knew he could not stop the party; it would be too discouraging and embarrassing for Jasper. And he knew Jasper was in control now.

And just then, on cue, Bella and Edward walked in the front door laughing. Edward led Bella to the living room and everyone shouted, "Happy birthday, Bella!" with the precise inflection Alice had taught them.

Carlisle could not suppress a smile as he saw Bella's face fill with blood and she ducked her head slightly as she grimaced and smiled at the same time. Esme moved toward Bella and hugged her carefully and then Carlisle felt compelled to put an arm around the blushing human.

"Sorry about this, Bella," he whispered so all of them could hear. "We couldn't rein Alice in."

Alice narrowed her eyes at Carlisle, and Esme slapped his arm. "You promised, my love," she hissed.

Carlisle chuckled and stood back as the others greeted Bella, enjoying the moment. It didn't matter if Alice was compensating for anything, the emotional bonds in the family were real, and the evening already was a complete success. Alice and Jasper were the last to greet Bella, and Carlisle was happy that Jasper actually managed to smile at Bella even though he was still working hard on his control.

"Time to open presents," Alice declared as she danced over to the table, towing Bella along beside her.

Bella resisted her just a little, "Alice, I know I told you I didn't want anything…"

"But I didn't listen," Alice said smugly. "Open it." She took Bella's camera from her hands and replaced it with a square silver box. The first gift was from Rosalie and Emmett, and Rosalie actually smiled when the box was revealed to be empty, and Bella realized that Emmett was already gone.

Jasper actually laughed. "It's a stereo for your truck. Emmett's installing it right now so that you can't return it." Emmett's booming laugh echoed outside from Bella's truck.

Alice handed Bella another gift. "Open mine and Edward's next!"

Emmett bounded through the door. "Just in time!" he crowed and pushed in behind Jasper.

Bella sighed and slipped her finger under the paper and jerked it under the tape. "Shoot," she muttered as a single drop of blood fell from a fresh paper cut on her finger.

In a split second Jasper had crossed the room. Edward screamed as he pushed Bella back against the wall and she fell onto one of the tables covered with crystal bowls of roses. Carlisle watched with horror as the shards of crystal sliced into Bella's arm, spilling more and more blood. Edward threw himself at Jasper and Carlisle pushed Esme back as Jasper went flying and crushed Edward's prized piano. In a flash Jasper was up again and Emmett now had his iron arms locked around Jasper and Carlisle moved toward Bella. But Edward growled at him viciously.

Carlisle used his well-practiced, authoritative voice. "Emmett, Rose, get Jasper outside."

Emmett was not smiling as he held Jasper who was still struggling and twisting as he bared his snapping teeth at Edward, his mind still beyond reason.

Rosalie's face was smug as she helped wrestle Jasper through the door Esme held open for them. Esme's face was ashamed. "I'm so sorry, Bella." She turned and followed the others out the door.

Carlisle's eyes were still on Edward. "Let me by, Edward." Slowly, Edward brought himself under control and relaxed as Carlisle knelt by Bella and examined her arm.

Alice handed Carlisle a towel, but Carlisle shook his head. "Too much glass in the wound. Bella, do you want me to drive you to the hospital, or would you like me to take care of it here?"

"Here, please," Bella whispered.

"Let's take her to the kitchen table," Carlisle said to Edward. Edward lifted Bella and Carlisle kept the pressure steady on Bella's arm.

_Edward, I'm sorry. This was my fault._ Carlisle thought. _I knew Jasper was having a bad day_.

Carlisle was taking his time unpacking his office. In some ways he was moving slowly because it didn't feel like home yet. He had found it easier to move into his new office at Cornell, and even to get into his new routine with his students, but coming home was somehow daunting. The condominium was just too empty, and the truth was, it didn't feel right.

Each of the Cullens had their own reasons for enjoying the life they had built in Forks and he also knew that they had been the most content as a family both times they had lived in the area. There was something about the quiet streets, the simple lives of the happy people, the warmth of the homes that repelled the constant rain and clouds, and the way the community left his family in peace that made it the one place in the world that Carlisle truly felt at home.

When Esme was not working at her new charity for the elderly she did what she could to fill the void, taking Carlisle on evening adventures when he got home from work and looking for something new to explore every day. That was how they had found her new restoration project: a seventeenth century house north of the city. They were planning to move in once it was done and it was going to be breathtaking, but what was the purpose of having five bedrooms and a wrap-around porch if there was no one to live in those rooms or to sit on the porch and tell stories to?

Edward hadn't moved with the family at all; leaving all of his belongings behind, he had immediately begun tracking Victoria, James's mate, who had sworn revenge against Bella for James's death. And he had refused to take anyone with him.

Rosalie was not happy with the move even though she had supported the decision when Edward asked her to go along with it because she still owed Edward for forcing the family to move after she took her revenge in Rochester. Rosalie decided it was time for her and Emmett to spend some time alone, and they left on a European tour because Emmett was actually close to depression himself with Edward gone and Jasper so distraught about his role in forcing the family to move. Edward had always feared outside forces threatening Bella's safety, but a threat from within that could not be absolutely controlled was the final straw. Edward saw no other way to ensure Bella would be out of danger, and so the Cullens left Forks.

The morning Carlisle was bleakly trying to unpack his study again the final blow came. Alice tiptoed into Carlisle's study as he was slowly depositing all of his three hundred and sixty-three years of journals into his large locked cabinet. She hovered, waiting for him to look up but he did not. She pouted for a moment, and then realized what he was doing.

"Avoiding me won't stop what has to happen," she said gently.

Carlisle stopped moving his journals, but could not look at her. "I'm not sure I can say any more good-byes, Alice."

Alice gracefully walked in and sat down cross-legged on the end of Carlisle's desk and looked at her adoptive father sadly. "I know, Carlisle." Then she reached out and put a tiny white hand on his black cashmere sweater. "But, you know that we will return… eventually. We just need some time, all of us."

Carlisle finally stood up and then sat in his leather chair and sighed. "Where will you and Jasper go?"

Alice looked reassuringly at Carlisle, "We will be fine. Jazz and I are going to look for my – family." Alice stumbled over the word because she realized too late what was implied might hurt Carlisle, but as she started to clarify Carlisle waved his hand at her.

"It's okay, Alice, I know what you meant," Carlisle half-smiled. "I haven't spoken to Jasper in a couple of days. How is he?"

"I don't think he will ever be all right until Edward comes home and he can finally apologize. Edward won't come home if he can't go back to Forks, but he will never go back to Forks because that puts Bella in danger. Rosalie wants to go back to Forks, but she won't if Bella is there, and Emmett just wants things to go back to how they were."

Carlisle sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Alice had to look away; she couldn't bear to see Carlisle so miserable. But then Carlisle laid one of his large hands over hers. "Alice," he whispered, "is there any hope?"

Alice smiled sadly. She knew Carlisle was looking for assurance that Edward would return safely. She unfocused her eyes for several moments and then she looked back at Carlisle. "I can see that you and Esme will be happy in the future, but I cannot see any of the surrounding circumstances."

Carlisle brightened a little and took Alice's small hand in his. "Then I know we will _all_ be together again. Please, don't keep us waiting long."

Alice and Jasper slipped away soon after that conversation, and Carlisle sat in his office contemplating his last conversation with Bella.

"_How can you do this?" She asked as she turned her head away from the sight of her own blood._

"_Years and years of practice," Carlisle replied as he gently pulled the stitch snug against her skin. "It's pleasant knowing that, thanks to what I can do, some people's lives are better because I exist."_

_Bella frowned. "You try very hard to make up for something that was never your fault."_

"_I don't know that I'm making up for anything," Carlisle said with a shrug. "Like everything in life, I just had to decide what to do with what I was given."_

"_In the beginning, though, why did you even think to try a different way than the obvious one?" Bella said uncertainly._

_Carlisle's mouth turned down at the corners. "You know my father was a clergyman… I didn't agree with his particular brand of faith. But never, in the nearly four hundred years now since I was born have I ever seen anything to make me doubt whether God exists in some form or the other. Not even the reflection in the mirror." Carlisle grinned at her surprised expression. "I'm sure all this sounds a little bizarre, coming from a vampire. But I chose this way – I was compelled to seek this path, because I'm hoping that there is still a point to this life, even for us. By all accounts, we're damned regardless. But I still hope, maybe foolishly that we'll get some measure of credit for trying."_

"_Damned? So that's the problem, isn't it? That's why he won't change me?" Bella's brows came together._

_Carlisle sighed. "If you believed as Edward does, could you take away his soul?"_

"_It's my choice," she insisted._

_Carlisle nodded. "It's his too, whether he is responsible for doing that to you."_

_Bella looked toward the door. "He's very upset."_

_Carlisle sighed. "Tonight is exactly the kind of thing that he fears the most. You being put in danger because of what we are," Carlisle said sadly._

_Bella narrowed her eyes, "It's not his fault."_

_Carlisle smiled. "It's not yours either."_

In Carlisle's mind he thought, _It was my fault_.

Carlisle's mobile phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the number; it was international. Carlisle flipped open the phone. "Edward, where are you?"

There was no response. Carlisle could hear the sounds of a busy street in the background and within a few seconds he determined the language was Portuguese. "Are you in Brazil or Portugal? Do you need me to come and get you, son?" The phone went dead.

Carlisle closed the phone, just as Esme appeared in the doorway. Carlisle looked up at her with grieved eyes. Esme walked behind the desk where Carlisle was sitting and pulled his head to her chest and laid her head on top of his as he wrapped his arms around her hips.

"He still needs to hear your voice," she whispered.

"Mr. Sanders? Mr. Sanders?"

Sanders's head jerked up from the desk and the entire lecture hall laughed. "Yes, sir?" Sanders mumbled.

Carlisle suppressed a chuckle and looked down his nose sternly. "What is the order of the arteries branching off of the external carotid artery?"

"Um… uh… superior thyroid… um… lingual… internal – "

"External," Carlisle corrected.

"Yeah, external maxillary… umm… mandibular and infraorbital?"

Carlisle allowed the moment to hang in the air before he finally nodded and Sanders's shoulders slumped with relief. Carlisle leveled a severe gaze on the entire class. "I hope you can all quote that in your sleep just like Mr. Sanders."

The class laughed again, and Carlisle turned back to his laptop on the podium so he could hide his smile. "Read the rest of the vascular system chapter by tomorrow and be prepared to label any slide I put up on the view screen. And to answer your question, no, not all of the slides will be in your book tonight. You will have to guess at some of them." The class groaned and then started to collect their computers and power cords as Carlisle closed his laptop and left the classroom.

Carlisle walked down the hall and nodded to students and professors as he passed. He avoided stopping to talk to the female students who smiled at him wistfully as he walked by them, but when his colleague Dr. Myra Richards stopped him he could not avoid her.

"Yes, Myra, how can I help you?"

She smiled at him and paused to collect her suddenly scattered thoughts. "I wondered if you would reconsider coming to the walk-a-thon, Carlisle. You can stay under the tent and help with registration so we can make sure you stay out of the sun, and you could bring Esme. We'd love to have you."

Carlisle smiled graciously. "I'll watch the weather report, Myra, but I cannot promise you anything."

She smiled again, "Of course, that's all I can ask, right? Let me know okay?"

Suddenly, Carlisle's phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked at her apologetically and pulled out the phone. It was a call from France. Carlisle carefully hid his excitement, "Myra, I'm sorry. This is my son, I have to take the call."

"It's fine! Just let me know!" She called after him and watched him leave. Carlisle nodded as he waved and walked away.

Carlisle flipped open the phone. "Emmett? How are you, son?" Carlisle could not suppress the cheerfulness in his voice.

"We're coming home today, Dad!!" Emmett's booming laugh echoed through the phone and Carlisle smiled broadly.

"When should we pick you up at the airport?"

"At two in the morning. Esme has all of the information, I just wanted to tell you myself." Emmett chuckled. "I wouldn't miss hearing your reaction."

"What made you decide to return?" Carlisle was barely paying attention to where he was going as he talked but he knew eventually his feet would bring him to his office.

"Rose talked to Alice this morning. Alice has a plan to try to get Edward to come home."

Carlisle's eyes widened. "Really?"

Emmett sighed. "I don't think it's gonna work, yet, but I know the kid needs us more than ever. How often does he call you?"

Carlisle arrived at his office and closed the door behind him. "Every few months. He never says a word."

"Same here." Emmett paused for a moment, then decided to change the subject. "Alice found something in Mississippi."

Carlisle's brows raised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Her full name was Mary Alice Brandon. Her parents were not from the social circle. It looked like they were pretty poor. She found her parents' engagement and her birth announcement and her death. She even stole her admissions papers from the old asylum archives. Her admission date was the same as the date of her death." Emmett sounded like he didn't quite know what to do with this information, or how to help Alice. "Didn't James say that she had been in a dark hole of a cell for a long time? And that the old vampire who changed her worked at the asylum and he stole her from there?"

Carlisle nodded to himself. "Yes, he did." Carlisle was afraid that the facts were leading to the conclusion that the old vampire had stolen Alice as soon as she was admitted. And that he held her in some unknown location for years before James found them. Carlisle wondered at the meaning of such behavior.

"There's one more thing. She had a sister named Cynthia. Cynthia's daughter, Alice's niece, is still alive in Biloxi."

Carlisle was dumbfounded. Emmett knew where his family and their descendants all were. Rosalie's brothers' descendants were scattered around the country. Edward's entire family had been wiped out. Esme had four brothers and two of them had died in World War I, while the third died of cancer at an early age and childless. Her youngest brother had married and had two children who were still alive in Ohio.

"Did she go and see her?" Carlisle whispered.

"Rose said that she went to the retirement community, but she did not go in," Emmett replied sadly.

Carlisle considered how this news might have affected Alice's vision of herself and her human life. Her current life was such a stark contrast, that he wondered if she was even able to imagine such a bleak existence.

"Thank you, Emmett. I'm not sure I would have wanted to ask her to repeat that story," Carlisle said quietly.

"I think it's been good for both of them. It's given them both something else to concentrate on. And being on their own they both realized – they don't want to be alone by choice."

Carlisle smiled. He knew that Emmett was also relating how he and Rosalie felt. "See you at the airport, son."

"Bye, Dad," Emmett chuckled.

Carlisle shut off the engine of the Land Rover and chuckled as Eleazar laughed out loud. The Cullens were visiting Denali while Cornell was on Spring Break and had arrived in the early hours. Carlisle and Eleazar spent the rest of the morning pushing the Rover to its limits like two little boys as they caught up on each other's lives.

Since the Cullen boys returned home they had taken a special interest in spending time with Carlisle and he appreciated the effort. Jasper had enrolled at Cornell and was studying seventeenth century philosophers which amused Carlisle, and they spent hours discussing Carlisle's old friends from the salon in Paris.

Emmett had taken over running a little league for children with disabilities that was associated with the Komansky Center for Children's Health at Presbyterian/Cornell Medical Center. Emmett demanded at least two evenings a week from Carlisle to help coaching.

Alice and Rosalie had started taking fashion design classes together and they took special joy in using Carlisle as a guinea pig as they tried to update his somewhat buttoned-up, genteel style. He tolerated it well enough.

Esme's renovations of the new house were nearly complete and they had all moved in so they could be closer to the forest for hunting. The boys and the girls had also started challenging each other to baseball games again. Carlisle was starting to feel that they had finally recaptured some measure of happiness despite Edward's absence.

Eleazar had not asked any direct questions about Edward. He had been present the first time Edward abandoned Carlisle, had sheltered Edward the second time when he was escaping his thirst for Bella Swan, and now was once again he was supporting his friend after Edward had left to be alone. Now as they walked up to the Denali coven's house he watched Carlisle carefully.

"You seem to be doing well, my friend," Eleazar said gently.

Carlisle sighed. "You need not be concerned about me. I only suffer in that I know Edward is suffering. But we will survive. And he will return. I know him well enough to believe that much."

Eleazar chuckled. "Yes, he is much like you." Carlisle stopped and lifted a brow. Eleazar laughed again, "The first time you left Denali, Tanya and the others worried about you constantly. I was… despondent." Carlisle frowned, but Eleazar's smile did not falter. "The second time you left they thought you would never return, and I think they were a little hurt. I was less upset but very worried about your state of mind. It was very difficult letting you go off on your own. But I knew that all I could do was let you find your own path. Much how you feel right now." Eleazar smiled broadly at Carlisle. Carlisle shook his head as he realized how much he had put the Denali coven through over the years. But before he could apologize Eleazar lifted a finger, "Only, I do not consider you my _son_."

Carlisle laughed out loud with Eleazar and put an arm around his old friend's shoulders as they walked up the front steps onto the porch of the house. Suddenly, the laughter died on Carlisle's lips and he felt an overwhelming sense of sadness emanating from Jasper. Eleazar felt the mood change too as soon as Carlisle stopped laughing.

"Edward…" Carlisle whispered, and then he charged through the front door with Eleazar right behind him. He walked in and Esme was suddenly at his side looking worriedly up at him.

"Come with me," she said quietly.

Carlisle was so taken off guard that he allowed Esme to take his arm and steer him into the front parlor. The entire family was there: Jasper was standing rigidly at the window, Carmen, Tanya, Kate and Irina were all standing together whispering with Alice and they looked up at Carlisle and Eleazar when they walked in. Rosalie sat next to Emmett and she looked sad but Emmett looked so overwhelmed that Carlisle began to panic.

Carlisle looked from Esme to Jasper. "What has happened?" he whispered. Jasper turned toward them and looked at Esme, who could not look back at either of them. "TELL ME!" he demanded after seeing Jasper's hurt eyes. All of them stared at Carlisle. None of them had ever seen him lose his composure before.

"It's Bella, Carlisle," Jasper said with a hollow voice. "Alice saw her commit suicide in a vision about an hour ago."

Carlisle's jaw dropped. Then he walked over to the couch and sat down heavily. "When?"

Alice stepped forward and sat on the floor next to Carlisle resting her head on his knee. "She's going to jump off the cliffs at La Push this morning." Alice said sadly.

Carlisle looked up. "Is it not too late? Can you stop it from happening?"

Jasper shook his head. "No. We are too far away."

"Did you call Charlie Swan? Did you call the La Push police?" Carlisle reached for his mobile.

"We made an anonymous call to complain about cliff jumpers behaving recklessly, but the dispatcher said that the entire Forks Police Department and half the reservation is out hunting an animal that has killed four hikers. They didn't have anyone to send, but they promised to radio the men in the forest and ask them to check the cliffs." Jasper said hopelessly. "After we called, Alice's vision did not change."

Carlisle shook his head sadly and his brow creased. Esme sat down next to him and laid a hand on Alice's head that was still on Carlisle's knee.

Alice pulled away from Esme's hand and sat up. "I'm going to go to Forks. Charlie's going to be devastated," she pressed her hands over her eyes. "Oh, his face! He needs help!"

Carlisle wiped his chin with his hand. "No, Alice. We've done all we can. We've done more damage than I thought imaginable. Leave them in peace," Carlisle said quietly. _I'm so sorry Charlie… Edward_.

"We need to call Edward," Rosalie said decidedly.

Carlisle looked up at her and thought for a moment, but then shook his head, "No."

Rosalie's brows came down and she frowned. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

Carlisle sighed and frowned back at Rosalie. "We'll tell him when he returns to us. Right now he needs some time away from – all of this."

"But if we call him and tell him he'll come home sooner!" She pleaded.

"Rosalie, we already talked about this," Jasper hissed.

Rosalie shook her golden curls. "But you're not listening to me! Carlisle, we can all be together again! Bella is gone, there's no more danger!"

Carlisle stood up so suddenly they all looked at him with surprise. He took a cleansing breath, and gave Rosalie a look that made her wilt slightly. Then he put up his hand and sighed. "Stop… just… stop." Then he ran his hand through his hair. "Leave Edward alone. Just a little while longer." He walked over to the tall glass doors and leaned against them, then he pulled his wool scarf off. "I need to hunt. Any of you may join me if you like."

"I'll go," Emmett said quickly. He was upset and didn't like sitting around when he was feeling so vulnerable.

"I need to go too," Jasper said.

"Why don't we make a trip of it? Head out to Wonder Lake for a few days," Eleazar suggested softly.

Rosalie frowned. "Alice and I have a project for school we are working on that is due after the break, and… I'd really rather stay here."

Carlisle could see more emotion in her than he had in a long time. He knew she missed Edward, but she was also sad for him, and was upset about Bella's death. Alice nodded mutely in agreement.

"OK, Emmett and I will just go out for a short trip and then come back," Jasper said softly and then he knelt down and kissed Alice on the forehead.

Carlisle changed into his track pants and a long sleeved turtleneck in a few seconds and then helped Eleazar pack the Rover and Tanya's restored Scout 800A. Within minutes the entire family except Alice and Rosalie were on their way. They did not speak the entire drive. Carlisle flew along the two lane highway pushing the Rover over 150 miles per hour. He was still too numb to grieve. He thought of the first time he met Bella just about two years before in the hospital after Edward had saved her.

"_So, Miss Swan, how are you feeling?" Carlisle smiled at the young girl with long dark hair. She was gaping at him, a reaction Carlisle had seen many times before. But then he realized that she was not just reacting to his appearance; she had a look that he recognized as a person who was on the edge of recognizing what he was._

_Bella realized she was staring and closed her mouth. "I'm fine," she said plainly._

_Carlisle kept things completely business-like as he walked to the lightboard and scanned the x-rays. "These look good. Does your head hurt? Edward said you hit it pretty hard." Carlisle played Edward's game but already knew that she was not going to accept that she had imagined the incident._

_She threw an irritated glance at Edward. "I'm fine," then she turned her gaze on Carlisle. Her fierce eyes saw right through him so clearly that he stepped closer to continue the examination and hoped to divert her train of thought._

_Carlisle ran his fingers gently over Bella's scalp until he felt a small bump and she winced. As she recoiled Edward shifted slightly in his chair. Carlisle glanced at Edward again. He knew Edward was concerned for her, his face had said as much when he arrived in Carlisle's office, but Carlisle realized just how much he cared. Carlisle had to resist a smile and looked back at Bella._

"_Tender?" Carlisle asked._

_She lifted her chin defiantly. "Not really," she sniffed. Carlisle felt the corner of his mouth turn up as he was reminded of Esme at sixteen, putting on her brave face with a broken leg._

_Carlisle glanced over at Edward and saw that his son was chuckling at Carlisle's memory and Bella narrowed her eyes at him again. Carlisle felt the other corner of his mouth turn up as he watched them. He hadn't seen anyone amuse Edward this way in a long time – a very long time – and he was reminded again of Esme._

"_Well, your father is in the waiting room – you can go home with him now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all," Carlisle said._

"_Can I go back to school?" Bella said quickly._

"_Maybe you should take it easy today," Carlisle suggested._

_Bella gave Edward another livid glance. "Does HE get to go to school?"_

"_Someone has to spread the good news that we survived," Edward smirked._

_Carlisle could see her shoulders bunching with anger. _Edward, don't wind her up._ "Actually, most of the school seems to be in the waiting room."_

"_Oh, no," she moaned, and she put her face in her hands._

_Carlisle struggled to keep a straight face. "Do you want to stay?"_

"_No, no!" Bella quickly jumped to the floor but stumbled forward into Carlisle's arms. Carlisle put her back up on her feet and looked into her eyes with concern._

_She looked back into Carlisle's amber irises and got a good look at the color. Then she turned pink when she saw his concern. "I'm fine."_

_Carlisle didn't see any new signs of a neurological injury, so when she was steady he dropped his hands. "Take some Tylenol for the pain."_

"_It doesn't hurt that bad," she countered._

_Carlisle smiled and signed her chart. "It sounds like you were extremely lucky."_

_Bella turned her hard gaze on Edward again. "Lucky Edward happened to be standing NEXT to me."_

"_Oh, well, yes," Carlisle agreed quickly. He knew that Bella was not going to let the incident go. _All yours_, he thought_. Handle it as you think best.

"_Thanks so much," Edward whispered back._

_Carlisle's lips turned up at Edward's sarcasm. He had never seen Edward so engaged, and Carlisle could see why. He could see from her eyes that she was definitely an intelligent, intuitive type that would seek the truth: a perfect foil for Edward._

A whistle to his right called Carlisle back to the present. The sun was setting and Emmett had closed in on another group of deer. Carlisle ran forward and to the left and Eleazar came in from the right and seconds later each of them had another kill and Carlisle felt the familiar warmth of the blood as it slid down his throat and filled his stomach. Somehow, however, it didn't satisfy him.

Emmett was nearby and had finished drinking but instead of running off to find another he was just standing there staring at the dead animal at his feet.

Esme stood up and cocked her head. "Emmett? Sweetheart? What is it?"

Suddenly, Emmett turned to the large tree nearest to him and started to punch it with his fists, yelling with every strike he punched the tree over and over until the bark was pulverized and he was well into the wood. Carlisle ran over with Esme and Eleazar and he tried to pull Emmett off the tree but when they got a hold of his arms he started kicking it. He kicked the tree harder and harder as if he wanted to knock it down. Jasper arrived to help them, and finally, they pulled him away from the tree and Esme put both hands on Emmett's face.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, Emmett!" She said quietly.

Emmett stopped struggling and his face wrinkled up as he finally let a sob escape his lips. He pulled his arms free and hugged Esme, and they cried without tears for Bella.

Carlisle looked away, feeling his own grief take hold of his stomach. Suddenly he wasn't very thirsty anymore. "Jasper, take Emmett back to Rosalie. You should be with Alice too. You've both had enough to hold you for a little while and you can hunt near the house tomorrow," then he started to walk away. Esme kissed Emmett's forehead, squeezed Jasper's hand and then followed Carlisle.

Jasper watched Carlisle walk away, then said to Eleazar, "You'll be okay?"

Eleazar nodded. "Of course, Jasper. We'll return in another day or two."

Esme caught up with Carlisle and they walked for hours, further and further into the woods. As the moon rose over the forest they climbed up into a tree and watched the birds of prey hunting.

"Do you remember when Bella first came to the house?" Carlisle said after four hours of silence.

Esme smiled. "Edward played my song, and then he played the song he wrote for Bella."

"She had already decided she wanted to be part of the family at that point," Carlisle said sadly.

Esme nodded. "Yes, I could see it in her eyes even then."

"And I could see it in Edward that afternoon, when we played baseball. His heart had already molded to fit hers." Carlisle looked over at Esme, "How could he ever leave her?"

Esme picked up Carlisle's hand. "For the same reason Raisa left you. Because he knew that if he stayed her death was a certainty, and it would have been his fault."

Carlisle frowned and then squeezed Esme's hand and looked up at the thin sliver remnant of the waning moon. It would be a new moon in two days.

Eleazar drove back to the house in Denali and Carlisle watched the scenery flash past him. The trip had been helpful, but he did not want to stay away from the others for very long because he knew they all needed each other.

As they drove up the long driveway Carlisle finally turned toward the house, and he saw something that made his cold heart sink. Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett were standing on the porch, and they did not look happy. Tanya, Kate and Irina pulled up first and Carlisle had his door open before Eleazar stopped the car.

Carlisle walked up to Jasper because he was standing in front. He looked into Carlisle's eyes, and gathered his strength.

"Alice left right after we went to Wonder Lake. She was obsessed with trying to do something to help Charlie. She found Bella _alive_."

Carlisle smiled, "But," then he laughed, relieving the tension in his chest. "That's wonderful! How?"

Jasper was not smiling. "Jacob Black is a werewolf. He rescued Bella, and apparently Alice cannot see the future of the wolves. She didn't call us immediately because she was afraid of affecting events any more, and she wanted to keep Bella safe."

Carlisle nodded, processing this information. Then he looked back at Jasper's expression and he frowned. "There is more, isn't there?"

Jasper sighed. "Rosalie called Edward yesterday while Emmett and I were hunting again to finish filling our thirst. She wanted to try to convince him to come home before you got back. She finally got a hold of him this morning and she told him Alice had seen that Bella was dead, hoping it would give him the freedom to return." Rosalie did not move or react; Emmett put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

"Edward hung up on Rosalie and called Bella's house. Jacob answered so Edward pretended to be you and Jacob told him that Bella's father was 'at the funeral.' But it wasn't Bella's funeral, Harry Clearwater died two days ago. Alice tried to call Edward back but he's thrown away his phone somewhere in Rio." Jasper took a deep breath and frowned deeply. "Carlisle, she's seen that Edward is heading to – to Volterra."

Carlisle's eyes widened and he knew instantly what Edward's plan was, and he could see that Jasper knew it too.

"Alice called me from the plane. Their flight will be less two hours behind him, but…"

"They're going too?" Carlisle whispered harshly.

Jasper's jaw was tight, "They're going to try to stop him." His brows came together and his pain deepened as he thought of Alice was walking directly into the lion's den to try to save Edward.

Carlisle stared at Jasper. Jasper knew that Carlisle understood there was nothing they could do. Edward would reach Volterra hours before anyone else could. He would be facing Aro alone. And then Aro would have Alice and Bella too. Carlisle's mind raced ahead with all of the possible outcomes of that encounter as Esme drew her arms around him.

"Alice has promised to call immediately once she knows anything," Jasper said with a hollow voice.

Carlisle hugged Esme back, kissed her forehead, and then walked into the house without saying a word, leaving them all standing on the porch. Esme began to sob quietly, and Jasper put his arms around her and tried desperately to project some calm into the house, but he failed. Rosalie still did not move.

Carlisle walked slowly up the stairs to his room. He stood in silence, staring out the window at the trees swaying in the morning breeze. Then he looked over at the bedside table and saw the Bible Eleazar had given him for his three hundredth birthday.

Carlisle walked over and picked up the Bible. He stared at it for several minutes. Then he flipped open the book to Psalm 61.

"May he be enthroned in God's presence forever; appoint your love and faithfulness to _protect him_. Then I will ever sing praise to your name and fulfill my vows day after day…" Carlisle sank to his knees and bowed his head as he tried to hold back the sobs.

_Please_, was all he could think to ask of God.

Jasper answered the phone when Alice called. She had Edward and Bella with her and they were speeding toward the airport, trying to beat the sunrise so they could be safely indoors until their flight. Esme took care of the flights online while Alice was still on the phone. She decided that it was essential that they get Bella home as soon as possible and put Alice, Edward and Bella on flights from Rome to Atlanta, and Atlanta to Seattle. Then she packed up the family and they flew to Washington to meet them.

After they landed Esme sent their ample luggage directly to the house, which had been closed up since they left because they could not face the idea of someone else living in it. The family waited in a dark corner of the clubroom at the airport all day but none of them spoke. Rosalie and Carlisle barely moved, and Jasper could not comfort them because his own anxiety was overwhelming. When the plane they were waiting for was on the ground they walked to the baggage claim area and waited. The minutes crawled by agonizingly as they watched dozens of people from other flights pass by them. Esme was shaking with anticipation, and she gasped when she finally saw Alice, Edward and Bella.

Carlisle found it difficult to look at his son as he walked toward the family. He focused his eyes on Bella, pushing down his jumble of feelings at seeing Edward alive: relief, joy, excruciating hurt, anger, remorse, sadness all coursed through him.

Esme hugged Bella. "Thank you so much." She threw her arms around Edward next. "You will NEVER do that to me ever again!" she growled.

"Sorry, Mom," Edward said remorsefully.

Then Esme leaned closer and whispered, "Or to your _father_!"

Carlisle heard her and he turned his head away as Edward looked at him with pained eyes. He knew that Edward was scanning his thoughts but he did not have a coherent one to give his son. All that he had was an unstable mass of emotion. Suddenly, he felt Jasper's calm washing over him; as Jasper had Alice back in his arms, the peace he felt was affecting everyone in the terminal.

Carlisle finally took a deep breath, and turned back toward his son, and saw the remorse and sadness in Edward's eyes. It did not cure all of the hurt feelings that were preventing Carlisle from embracing him, but he put a hand on Edward's shoulder and thought in his mind the words that he said to Edward every time he returned. _Welcome home, son._

As Carlisle started to turn away Edward whispered, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I hope someday you can forgive me."

Carlisle sighed. _Son, of course you are forgiven. And you are a man, you may leave any time you feel it is right._ Carlisle squeezed Edward's shoulder,_ But please… don't willingly put yourself in danger, EVER again. I don't know if – if I can bear it._

Then Carlisle turned to Bella. "Thank you, Bella, we owe you," he said very quietly.

"She's dead on her feet," Esme scolded Edward. "Let's get her home."

Carlisle let Esme and Edward support Bella, Jasper and Alice led the way. Suddenly, Carlisle put a hand on the pillar next to him. The strain over the last twenty-four hours had begun to weigh on him in such a way that he felt _tired_. Carlisle locked his legs to prevent himself from showing any weakness. Within seconds he gathered his strength and quickly caught up to the group before they could notice he had lagged behind.

Carlisle was sitting in the dark in his office doing a complete check of his physiology. His skin integrity was unchanged save for the old gouge mark scars on his arm and the web-shaped scar that covered the left side of his neck. His vision, lung volume, balance, strength, hearing, touch sensation, and cognition were all perfect. He could not explain what had happened to him at the airport.

As he slipped his shirt back on and quickly buttoned it up he started to wonder if he was making something of nothing. Everything seemed fine, and though he had never experienced any sensation of vertigo before as a vampire, he supposed that it could not be outside the realm of possibility. And then he knotted his tie, and decided to forget about the entire incident.

Carlisle looked up as he was buckling his belt, Edward had just arrived and the front door closed. Bella's unmistakable scent flowed up to Carlisle's nose. "Carlisle? Esme? Rosalie? Emmett? Jasper? Alice?"

Carlisle slipped his scarf around his neck and then flew down the stairs with out a whisper of sound and stood next to Bella. "Welcome back, Bella," he said as he smiled down at her. "What can we do for you this morning? I imagine, due to the hour, that this is not a purely social visit?"

Bella nodded, a small fire in her eyes. "I'd like to talk to everyone at once, if that's okay. About something important."

Carlisle's eyes flashed over to Edward, and Edward's expression was displeased but resigned. Whatever was going on was not his idea. Carlisle looked back at Bella who had seen him glance up at Edward. "Of course. Why don't we talk in the other room?"

Carlisle walked though the formal living room and around the corner into the dining room, waving his hand in front of the dimmer. The white walls and high ceilings were slowly illuminated up to full light by recessed ceiling lights along the walls and a low-hanging chandelier. Carlisle walked to the end of the polished oval table and pulled out his customary chair at the head of the table which he only occupied when they used the space for family meetings. The last time he had sat there they discussed whether or not to end Bella's life, and now he was inviting her to sit down. It took a moment for Bella to realize that he was holding out the chair for her. She quickly moved forward and sat down as he gently pushed the chair in behind her.

When they entered the dining room it was empty, but by the time Bella was seated and looked up, the entire family was in the dining room. Carlisle sat on Bella's right, Edward on the left. Everyone else sat down and their expressions were curious, except Alice who already knew what was about to happen.

Carlisle nodded toward Bella. "The floor is yours."

Bella swallowed nervously, but then bravely stuck out her chin. "Well, I'm hoping Alice has already told you everything that happened in Volterra?"

"Everything," Alice echoed.

"Good," Bella swallowed again gathering her strength. "So I have a problem. Alice promised the Volturi that I would become one of you. They're going to send someone to check, and I'm sure that's a bad thing – something to avoid. And so, now, this involves you all. I'm sorry about that." Bella's eyes were apologetic as they swept across the faces around the table. Edward was avoiding her gaze. "But, if you don't want me, then I'm not going to force myself on you, whether Alice is willing to transform me or not. Please, let me finish." Bella put up a finger to stop Esme from interrupting. "You all know what I want. And I'm sure you know what Edward thinks, too. I think the only fair way to decide is for everyone to have a vote. If you decide you don't want me then…I guess I'll go back to Italy alone. I can't have _them_ coming _here_." Bella's forehead creased.

Carlisle looked up at Edward as he growled in his chest. Bella ignored him. "Taking into account then, that I won't put any of you in danger either way, I want you to vote yes or no on the issue of me becoming a vampire."

"Just a minute," Edward interrupted. "I have something to add before we vote. About the danger Bella's referring to, I don't think we need to be overly anxious." Edward leaned forward and looked around the table. "You see, there was more than one reason why I didn't want to shake Aro's hand there at the end. There's something they didn't think of, and I didn't want to clue them in." Edward grinned.

"Which was?" Alice said skeptically.

"The Volturi are overconfident, and with good reason. When they decide to find someone, it's not really a problem. Do you remember Demetri?" He turned to Bella and she shuddered. "He finds people – that's his talent, why they keep him. Now, the whole time I was picking their brains for anything that might save us, getting as much information as possible. So I saw how Demetri's talent works. He's a tracker – a tracker a thousand times more gifted than James was. His ability is loosely related to what I do, or what Aro does. He catches the … flavor? I don't know how to describe it… the tenor… of someone's mind, and then he follows that. It works over immense distances. But after Aro's little experiments testing your resistance to him and Jane, well…" Edward shrugged.

"You think he won't be able to find me," Bella said.

Edward smiled up at Carlisle. Carlilse did not smile back. Edward looked smugly at Bella. "I'm sure of it. He relies totally on that other sense. When it doesn't work with you, they'll be blind."

"And how does that solve anything?" Bella said testily.

"Quite obviously, Alice will be able to tell when they're planning a visit, and I'll hide you. They'll be helpless. It will be like looking for a piece of straw in a haystack!" Edward's eyes were bright with satisfaction.

"But they can find you," Bella replied with a frown.

"And I can take care of myself." Edward waved his hand. Carlisle frowned.

Emmett laughed and reached across the table extending his fist. "Excellent plan, my brother." Edward stretched out his arm and pounded Emmett's fist.

"No," Rosalie hissed.

"Absolutely not," Bella growled.

"Nice," Jasper said approvingly.

"Idiots," Alice muttered.

Esme just glared at Edward angrily.

Bella cleared her throat calling the table to order. "All right, then. Edward has offered an alternative for you to consider. Let's vote." Her voice was now all business as she turned to Edward. "Do you want me to join your family?"

Edward's eyes were hard. "Not that way. You're staying human."

Bella turned to the next person. "Alice?"

"Yes."

"Jasper?"

"Yes."

"Rosalie?"

Rosalie paused, biting her lip. "No," she responded, putting up her hands to stop Bella from moving on. "Let me explain. I don't mean that I have any aversion to you as a sister. It's just that… this is not the life I would have chosen for myself. I wish there had been someone there to vote no for me."

Carlisle knew that she loved him and the family, but the truth still hurt enough for a slight crease to appear between his brows.

Bella nodded slowly and then turned to Emmett, who replied, "Hell yes! We can find some other way to pick a fight with this Demetri," and he grinned.

Esme looked back at Bella. "Yes, of course, Bella. I already think of you as part of my family."

"Thank you, Esme." And finally, Bella turned to Carlisle with fear in her eyes, but he was not looking at her; he was staring at his folded hands and his brow was furrowed. He could feel the eyes of everyone at the table on him, especially Edward.

Carlisle had carefully kept his mind completely blank during the vote, simply processing everything that was said. But then he lifted his chin and looked up at Edward. _Your plan will not work. Bella will not allow you to be put in danger_. Carlisle saw Edward's brow furrow. _I have never been a part of changing a healthy human, but if we do not take responsibility for her, she will not be healthy for long. Aro will never give up. Now that he has seen you, and your memories of my family, he will be coming for me. For all of us. We must protect Bella._

Edward began to shake his head. Carlisle spoke with great compassion, "Edward," _please son, see reason_.

"No," Edward growled. His jaw clenched.

"It's the only way that makes sense," Carlisle insisted. "You've chosen not to live without her, and that doesn't leave me a choice." Carlisle's gaze pierced Edwards, "I _won't_ lose my son."

Edward dropped Bella's hand, shoved his chair back and stalked from the room, snarling with rage.

Carlisle unfolded his hands and put his palms down on the table as he leaned back. "I guess you know my vote," he sighed, and looked up at Bella sadly.

"Thanks," Bella mumbled, her eyes following Edward.

An earsplitting crash echoed from the living room and Carlisle sighed. Edward had just destroyed Carlisle's brand new 60-inch plasma screen. Emmett would be watching football on the TV in his office until he could replace it.

Bella flinched but quickly went back to business. "That's all I needed. Thank you, for wanting to keep me. I feel exactly the same way about all of you too." Bella's voice broke.

Esme was at her side, and hugged her. "Dearest Bella."

"Well, Alice, where do you want to do this?" Bella said standing up.

Alice stared, her eyes wide with terror. Edward roared from the living room. "No! No! NO!" He charged back in and pulled Bella's face away from Alice. "Are you insane? Have you utterly lost your mind??"

"Um, Bella, I don't think I'm _ready_ for that. I'll need to prepare," Alice said anxiously.

"You _promised_," Bella glared.

"I know but… seriously, Bella! I don't have any idea how to _not_ kill you."

"You can do it, I trust you," Bella said confidently as Edward snarled again.

Alice shook her head again, so Bella turned to her right. "Carlisle?"

Edward put a palm in Carlisle's face pulling Bella's head toward him again, but Carlisle ignored him. "I'm able to do it. You would be in no danger of me losing control."

"Sounds good," Bella mumbled because she was being inhibited by Edward's grip.

"Hold on! It doesn't have to be now!" Edward said desperately.

"There's no reason for it _not_ to be now," Bella was becoming irritated.

"I can think of a few," Edward shot back.

"Of course you can. Now let go of me." Bella freed herself from Edward's grip

Edward folded his arms. "In about two hours, Charlie will be here looking for you. I wouldn't put it past him to involve the police."

"All three of them," Bella said dismissively, but then she frowned, and so did Carlisle. Charlie had been forward in Carlisle's thoughts, but he still could not see another solution. This way Carlisle knew that Charlie's daughter would be safe.

"In the interest of remaining inconspicuous, I suggest that we put this conversation off, at the very least until Bella finishes high school, and moves out of Charlie's house," Edward pleaded.

Carlisle looked up from the table. "That's a reasonable request, Bella." Carlisle suddenly felt even better about the decision. It was a perfect compromise.

Bella frowned. "I'll consider it."

Edward relaxed a little. "I should probably take you home. Just in case Charlie wakes up early."

Bella looked down at Carlisle who was now looking at her. "After graduation?"

Carlisle considered the implications one more time of agreeing and not agreeing. He came to the same conclusion. "You have my word," he nodded.

Bella smiled down at Carlisle and he was once again conflicted. He was furious that Caius felt he could exert his will and rule of the law on Carlisle. Most of all Carlisle was angry that Aro had touched any of his children, especially Bella. He was intrigued by Bella's resistance to Aro's power, but knew that Aro would see it as another reason to focus his energy on regaining control over Carlisle.

In addition to those worries, Carlisle was also quite sad. He wondered what Alice's vision of Bella as a vampire looked like. Was she happy? Did she have the same regrets that Rosalie still harbored? Did she resent him for changing her? It seemed unlikely that this story could end badly, but as he watched Edward rush Bella out of the house before anything else could transpire, Carlisle was not as relieved as he thought he would be to have a resolution to the question of whether or not Bella would become a vampire.

The story was, after all, far from over.


	24. Chapter 22: 2006

CHAPTER 22

~~2006~~

ECLIPSE

The trees were passing in a blur as Alice ran in the lead and Carlisle was right behind her with Jasper at his side. Rosalie and Esme were flanking wide right and left with Emmett bringing up the rear. Victoria's trail was skirting the Quileute treaty border perfectly. That in and of itself worried Carlisle. Only the Cullens and the Quileute knew that border and Carlisle could not even begin to understand how she had found it. But it was a perfect method for evading them.

Alice was leading them ahead because she knew exactly where Victoria was going to cross the border again. Carlisle wished he had Edward and his speed at that moment, but at the same time Edward was unpredictable when he was emotionally involved. It was better that he had taken Alice's advice and removed Bella to Jacksonville for the weekend.

Alice suddenly slowed and turned. "NO!" Carlisle's head whipped around and he saw Emmett running toward the border.

"EMMETT!! STOP!!" Carlisle changed directions and ran toward his son but Jasper was faster and ran ahead.

"_I GOT HER!!_" Emmett roared.

Carlisle could see flying red hair streaking between the enormous trees just beyond the border. "EMMETT!!"

Emmett was within about twenty meters of Victoria and he took a flying leap. Jasper was forced to stop short at the border. Just as Emmett went airborne an enormous stormy gray werewolf appeared and lunged with a snarling growl at the red-headed vampire. Carlisle watched helplessly as Emmett collided with the gray werewolf and Victoria nimbly evaded both attacks.

Emmett bounced off the werewolf and flew into an enormous thousand year-old tree and knocked the tree slightly askew. When Emmett fell to the ground he did not get up. The gray werewolf also glanced off Emmett and fell with a whimper, but quickly stood up and roared at Emmett. Emmett finally pulled himself off the ground by gripping the giant tree and cried out, holding his right leg. His face twisted with pain but he still managed to growl back at the giant gray werewolf.

"EMMETT, YOU ARE OVER THE BORDER!! CAN YOU MOVE? IF NOT I'LL COME GET YOU!" Carlisle yelled. Rosalie ran past Carlisle. "ROSALIE, NO!!"

Rosalie roared just as two more werewolves appeared and growled back at her. She defiantly put an arm around Emmett and together they jumped back across the border. Rosalie tried to absorb the weight of the jump and hold Emmett up, but he landed on his bad leg and fell to the ground again groaning in pain.

At that moment the rest of the pack arrived including the leader. Carlisle had to leave Rosalie and Esme to watch over Emmett and he went to the border and put up his hands in front of the leader. "Sam! This was an accident! Emmett was trying to catch the intruder! Please! Listen to me!" Alice and Jasper were at Carlisle's side and an overwhelming feeling of calm overtook Carlisle. He had never felt Jasper use his full strength, but if there ever was a time to use it, this was the perfect moment.

Sam was growling as he approached, but by the time he came close to the vampires he was still rumbling in his throat but his teeth were no longer bared.

Carlisle kept his hands up. "I'm sorry we ran into each other this way, but trust me, the intruder is the enemy here! Let us continue the chase! We are losing time!"

Sam turned his head in the direction Victoria had gone. He barked, and the entire pack bolted away at blinding speed.

"Let us help you! We can run with you and trap her!" Carlisle pleaded.

Sam growled again and his lips curled up over his teeth. The answer was no. Then he turned and ran off again in the direction his pack had gone.

Carlisle dropped his hands and sighed.

"She's gone, they won't catch her," Alice said with frustration.

Carlisle immediately turned and walked toward Emmett. Without a word he knelt next to him and ripped up the side of Emmett's pants. He found a deep crack along the line of Emmett's iliotibial tract on the outside of his thigh between his quadriceps and hamstring muscles.

"Damn it, Emmett, Rosalie, if either of you _ever_ disobey me like that again and put the treaty in jeopardy…" Carlisle's quiet fury caused them all to cringe.

"I'm sorry, sir – ARGH! Never again!" Emmett cried out as Carlisle used strips of Emmett's pants to wrap his leg.

"Don't put any weight on this leg – no, never mind. I'm going to carry you, we can't let this crack move any higher because it might reach your hip." Carlisle threw Emmett over his shoulder and the family retreated from the border.

Victoria was still at large and they had no idea of her next move.

Carlisle, Esme and Jasper were sitting on the wide leather couches and watching CNN intently. Carlisle was leaning back and rubbing Esme's shoulders, while Jasper was sitting up perfectly straight. Alice sat at the bottom of the staircase frowning but listening to the news. The entire family was on edge, with the exception of Emmett, of course. Carlisle worried that even after his encounter with the werewolves that Emmett still seemed to believe he was bulletproof. He was, of course, bulletproof, but also not completely invulnerable.

Emmett ambled casually into the living room as Bella and Edward walked into the house. "Hey, Edward. Ditching, Bella?" he asked with a grin.

"We both are," Edward said, tossing the paper to Carlisle who caught it with one hand. "Did you see that they're considering a serial killer now?"

Carlisle waved the paper toward the enormous flat screen television. "They've had two specialists debating that possibility on CNN all morning."

"We can't let this go on," Edward grumbled.

"Let's go now," Emmett said with sudden enthusiasm. "I'm dead bored." A hiss echoed down the stairway from upstairs. "She's such a pessimist," Emmett muttered.

Edward agreed. "We'll have to go sometime."

Rosalie appeared at the top of the stairs and descended slowly, her face smooth and expressionless except for her eyes which were full of fury. She had not borne Emmett's injury well and was very displeased with his casual attitude.

Carlisle was shaking his head as he watched Rosalie approach. "I'm concerned. We've never involved ourselves in this kind of thing before. We aren't the Volturi and this is uncontrolled _vampire_ activity."

"I don't want the Volturi to have to come here! It gives us so much less reaction time," Edward protested.

"And all those innocent humans in Seattle that are dying – it's not right to let them die this way," Esme murmured.

Carlisle squeezed her shoulders. "I know."

Edward suddenly turned to look at Jasper, "I didn't think of that. I see. You're right, that has to be it. Well, that changes everything." His tone was forlorn. "You'd better explain to the others. What could be the purpose of this?" Edward started to pace the floor.

Jasper hesitated as all eyes turned toward him and he scanned their faces, but he stopped at Bella. "You're confused."

"We're all confused," Emmett grumbled.

Jasper turned back to Emmett. "You can afford the time to be patient. Bella should understand this too. She's part of the family."

Jasper turned to look at Edward who responded to his unspoken question. "No, I'm sure you can understand why I haven't told her that story, Jasper. But I suppose she needs to hear it now."

Jasper nodded and then started to roll up the arm of his ivory cashmere sweater. Then he turned to the table lamp next to him and traced his finger over a raised crescent mark on his pale skin.

"Oh, Jasper you have a scar exactly like mine," Bella breathed.

Jasper smiled faintly, "I have a lot of scars like yours, Bella." He pushed the thin sweater higher up his arm and Bella looked closer and closer until she gasped. Her human eyes could barely perceive what the vampires all saw perfectly clearly: curved half-moons covered Jasper's arm in a feathery pattern of hundreds of venom scars from vampire bites.

"Jasper what _happened_ to you?" Bella whispered.

Carlisle tuned out for most of Jasper's story because he knew it only too well. A vampire had transformed Jasper specifically for his military skills as an officer in the Confederate Army. He had been taken to the southern hemisphere to fight in the unending blood battles. Covens created entire armies over and over to fight for their hunting grounds. Jasper had spent his first 100 years as a vampire in a living hell.

"An army," Alice whispered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Carlisle turned away from the television to look back at his son and Jasper returned the look glumly. "I thought I must have been interpreting the signs incorrectly. Where is the motive? Why would someone create an army in Seattle? There is no history there, no vendetta like there is in the south. It makes no sense from a conquest standpoint either; no one claims Seattle. Nomads pass through, but there's no one to fight for it. But I've seen this before, and there's no other explanation. There is an army of newborn vampires in Seattle – fewer than twenty, I'd guess – but, they are totally untrained. Whoever made them just set them loose. It will only get worse, and it won't be much longer until the Volturi step in. Actually, I'm surprised they've let this go on so long." Jasper was looking directly at Carlisle as he finished.

Carlisle's lips were now slightly parted in shock. "What can we do?"

Jasper's eyes were hard. "If we want to avoid the Volturi's involvement, we will have to destroy the newborns, and we will have to do it very soon. I can teach you how. It won't be easy in the city because they don't care about secrecy, but we will have to be."

Edward had stopped pacing and was staring at the television at the headline on the screen: _Pattern suggests the killer is moving west_. "Maybe we won't have to." Edward's voice was bleak. "Does it occur to anyone else that the only possible threat in the area that would call for the creation of an army is… us?"

Jasper's eyes narrowed. Carlisle's eyes widened.

Esme put a hand on Carlisle's leg. "Tanya's family is also near," she said slowly.

"The newborns aren't ravaging Anchorage, Esme." Edward said quietly.

"They are not coming after us," Alice insisted and then her mouth hung open. "Or… they don't know that they are. Not yet. I can't see a clear picture… someone's changing their mind, moving from one course of action to another so quickly that I can't get a good view…"

"Indecision?" Jasper offered.

"Not indecision, _knowledge_. Someone who knows you can't see anything until the decision is made. Someone who is hiding from us." Edward's eyes were dark. "Aro knows you as well as you know yourself. He touched you in Volterra."

"Why?" Carlisle's eyes narrowed. "There's no reason for the Volturi – "

"In Aro's mind he saw me at his right hand and Alice at his left: the present and the future, virtual omniscience. The power of the idea intoxicated him. But there was also the thought of you, Carlisle, of our family, growing stronger and larger. The jealousy and the fear: you having…not more than he had, but things that he wanted. The idea of rooting out the competition was there. Ours is the largest coven they've ever found…"

Carlisle's features were becoming dangerously shadowed. "They're too committed to their mission. They would never break the rules themselves. It goes against everything they've worked for."

"They'll clean up afterward. A double betrayal." Edward was just as grim.

Jasper shook his head. "No, Carlisle is right. The Volturi do not break rules and this is too sloppy." He pointed to the television. "This person has no idea what they are doing. I cannot believe the Volturi are involved – but they will be."

Carlisle bent over and ran his hands through his blond locks. Aro could not be behind this. He was capable of underhanded tactics, like the ambush on Alistair long ago in Italy, but this was on an entirely different scale. There was truth in what Edward said; he could see every thought Edward was describing as if he was looking directly into Aro's mind: the jealousy, the fear, and the desire.

"What are we waiting for?" Emmett said impatiently.

Carlisle folded his hands in front of his mouth and looked up at Edward. _I'm sure Aro is not involved yet, but Jasper is right. If we don't stop this, they will come. And while I do not believe he would try to destroy me to get to you, I doubt he would leave without you. We must act._ Edward nodded once.

Carlisle stood up. "We'll need you to teach us, Jasper." His jaw was set, but there was deep pain in his eyes. His hand was being forced again toward violence.

Jasper nodded. "We're going to need help. Do you think Tanya's family would be willing? Another five mature vampires, and Kate and Eleazar would be especially advantageous. It would be almost easy, with their aid."

"We'll ask," Carlisle said uncertainly. He was worried about involving them. Tanya would not take a confrontation with the Volturi lightly.

Jasper held out his mobile phone. "We need to hurry."

Carlisle hesitated for just a moment, and then took the phone and paced over to the windows as he dialed. He held the phone to his ear and laid the other hand against the cold glass. He stared out at the fog with his brow creased.

"Jasper?" Tanya answered the phone abruptly.

"It's Carlisle, Tanya," he said low and quick.

"Carlisle, why are you calling?" She sounded strange, distant.

"Tanya, we have a serious problem brewing here, and I'm calling to ask if you can help."

Tanya paused. "You're talking about the vampire activity in Seattle, aren't you?"

"Jasper believes that the vampires are a newborn army that is being created by someone who is just letting them loose with no training, allowing them to slaughter humans at will. But Edward believes there is a plan… that they are meant to attack Forks." Carlisle was still speaking low and fast, but he still had trouble getting the last words out.

"Why would they attack you?" Tanya seemed completely surprised.

"We have one enemy right now, a vampire named Victoria who blames us for the death of her mate; she might be irrational enough to attempt this," Carlisle said exasperated.

Tanya was silent for a moment. "And did you kill her mate?"

Carlisle blinked. "Yes, we did. He was hunting us."

"And why was he hunting you?" Tanya asked.

"Because he thought tracking Bella would be good sport," Carlisle's brow furrowed. "Will you come and help us?"

Tanya paused again. "Of course, Carlisle. If you'll do one thing for us."

"What do you mean?" Carlisle's lips thinned.

"It's Irina you see. She is rather upset that your pet dogs in Forks killed Laurent."

"Tanya, he tried to _kill_ Bella. And he was helping _Victoria_," Carlisle growled.

"You all mourned her and protect her as if she was one of us!" Tanya spat out.

Carlisle was silent. He was so shocked to hear her speak that way about Bella he had no response.

"Stand aside and let Irina get her revenge and we will come to help."

"We didn't realize…that Irina felt that way." Carlisle stood up straight, lowering his hand from the glass and placing it on his brow.

"The wolves are directly responsible – "

"There is no question of that," Carlisle interrupted with an edge in his voice, "But we have a truce. They haven't broken it, and neither have we."

"Then you have made your choice, and we cannot help you," Tanya said coldly.

"Where is Eleazar, Tanya?" Carlisle was almost growling at this point, his voice was so low.

"He is out hunting for vampires with Carmen. They have been gone for two weeks and they are far beyond mobile reception," Tanya said impassively.

"I'm sorry to hear that. We'll just have to do our best alone." Carlisle shut the phone without waiting for an answer. He continued to stare out into the fog. The cloudiness of the future of his family consumed him.

Carlisle kept his relaxed, gracious smile perfectly in place. He was not going to allow anything to ruin Alice's fun or Bella's graduation party. Like Edward, Carlisle was determined that Bella should have all of the experiences of growing up that were available to her.

Esme was stationed at the corner bar, serving non-alcoholic drinks to the entire class of graduates. None of the students of Forks High School could resist the chance to have a peek inside the mysterious Cullen household. Alice had spared no expense in creating a glamorous world for everyone to enjoy, and Carlisle appreciated the opportunity to ensure all the kids had a fun and safe evening. There was juvenile entertainment for those who enjoyed bouncy castles and slip n' slides out in the back yard, and inside the house was a club-like atmosphere for kids who just wanted to dance the night away.

Carlisle had a path that he was walking every hour patrolling the mayhem and keeping a close watch on his family. They were all on alert due to the danger brewing just a few miles away. Carlisle had been trying for over a week to contact his many friends and acquaintances to prepare for the coming fight, but as yet he had failed. Garrett was a nomad and never carried a phone. Siobhan was not in the country and could not reach them fast enough. Alistair was missing completely. And despite all of his efforts he could not find Eleazar, who Carlisle knew would be at his side in an instant if he knew what was happening.

Carlisle was not shocked by Tanya's loyalty to Irina, but knew there had to be a larger reason that she would let a dispute over a vampire who had no loyalty to either family to allow her to abandon them in their hour of need. Carlisle knew that part of the problem was Tanya was angry with Edward for choosing Bella over her, but the hurt went back further. Eleazar's words over the last Spring Break haunted him. Carlisle himself had abandoned the Denali coven to pursue his mission to help humanity, but then he had gone on to create another family, separate from the one he left behind. The Denali girls had been abandoned by their mother when she selfishly pursued her wish to keep an eternal child, and then he had abandoned them. And even worse, he seemed to care more for his new family than his old one. Carlisle felt keenly that he was fully to blame for the Cullens' current dire situation.

Carlisle was walking across the back porch and scanning the students as they bounced and slid on the inflated rides when he heard Alice approach. As soon as he saw her face he knew what she was going to say.

"How much time until they arrive?" He said quickly and quietly.

Alice's eyes were wide. "Less than three days."

Carlisle frowned. "Not here, my office." They walked up the back staircase, and Jasper followed them. Jasper had sensed Alice's change in mood and probably heard everything that they had just said to each other.

As soon as they entered Carlisle's office Jasper growled, "We have to start talking about other options."

Emmett and Esme walked in next.

"What is going on?" Esme said nervously.

"We have to consider how we're going to take on more than twenty newborns, Carlisle. We are going to need the strength!" Jasper pleaded.

Carlisle frowned deeply. "Jasper, I know that there is a temporary boost in power with consuming human blood, but it won't be a match for the newborns who are still completely engorged with their own blood. Breaking our vow is not the answer."

Rosalie walked up just as the argument was beginning. "I won't do it, I don't care what you say it will do for me. I have complete confidence in my abilities."

Emmett shrugged. "But we may need any advantage we can get, babe."

Alice turned her head toward the door. "I'm going to get Edward and Bella, we need to discuss this," and then she left without another word.

Jasper decided he needed to keep pressing his case. "Carlisle, no one is going to help us, we are alone!"

Carlisle shook his head. "Jasper, I know you will do what you must, I cannot do what you ask."

Suddenly, Jasper turned his head and ran out of the room. Emmett rolled his eyes. "What is going on with him?" Then he looked back at Carlisle. "Look, I'm willing to go with Jasper on this one. I think that both of us would feel better about protecting the family. All we need from you is to get some blood from the bank. No one is getting hurt," Emmett added, trying to anticipate Carlisle's arguments.

Carlisle thought about their perspective. He felt it was unethical because blood donation was meant to save human lives, but Carlisle had never felt his family was in such jeopardy before. If there were ever to be a good enough reason to use donated blood, this was probably the only occasion he could think of…

Alice, Jasper, Edward and Bella all burst into the room. Alice and Jasper were smiling. Edward looked pleased, but Bella looked like she was going to be sick.

"We have a plan, Carlisle," Jasper said.

Alice smiled broadly, "The wolves are going to fight with us."

Carlisle stood up slowly, then he began to chuckle. Emmett joined in. And finally, Edward smiled even as Bella groaned in protest because she feared for the wolves' lives. She feared for _all_ of their lives as they worked together to protect her.

Carlisle walked around his desk, still smiling. "Bella, you have nothing to worry about. Jasper, it's time for some more training."

Carlisle stood alone out in the middle of the clearing. Not two hundred meters away he could already hear them. They were a rabid mob. The newborns had no grace, no subtlety; they simply embodied raw power. Edward and his werewolf partner, Seth, were guarding Bella about nine miles away. He closed his eyes. _Please, God protect them; protect all of us_.

Esme appeared at Carlisle's side, "Alice says they have reached the end of the trail, and are splitting into two groups right now."

"And the werewolves?" Carlisle asked.

Jasper appeared on Carlisle's other side, "They are in position waiting for the ambush group in the forest."

Carlisle turned to Jasper and nodded, "Well done, son."

The rest of the family appeared behind them and Alice smiled, "We are ready."

Carlisle turned back to Esme and put a hand on her cheek, "I'll see you in about fifteen minutes."

Esme frowned, "You are that confident, are you?"

"Hell yeah, we are," Emmett chuckled.

Carlisle gave her a half-smile and bent down and rested his forehead against hers. The newborns were now less than one hundred meters away and clearing the edge of the tree line.

"My love, forever," Carlisle whispered. Then he straightened up and turned and ran with Esme toward the snarling vampires with Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice.

There were eight newborns and they were relatively large. Carlisle judged that this was the elite vanguard. Their strategy was to kill as many as possible, and then the ambush unit would ensure none escaped the initial assault. However, Carlisle did not see Victoria among them, and he did not smell her nearby. The Cullens split into two groups, flanking both sides of Carlisle and Esme, and then Jasper sprinted ahead and took down the first newborn.

Carlisle turned toward Alice, "I will cover you, find Victoria!"

Alice closed her eyes for a split second and Carlisle turned in time to swing his arm and flip a newborn that was headed straight for them over and onto the ground. Rosalie arrived and grabbed the newborn by the head and then brought her knee down into the newborn's larynx.

"Nice one!" Emmett roared with laughter.

Alice put a hand on Carlisle's arm. "She's not sure where she's going, but she has one of them leading her away from here. I can't see where they are going, but – CARLISLE!"

Alice pulled Carlisle down just as two newborns crashed into them. Jasper immediately grabbed the one that had a hand on Alice, and though the second newborn had missed Carlisle's head because of Alice's vision she had merely done a flip and now had an arm around his waist. Carlisle jumped up and kicked the newborn squarely in the abdomen and her hold loosened just enough for him to pry her fingers off of him and then he landed with his knee in her chest. She was damaged but she screeched and with both hands she threw Carlisle off of her and a second newborn crashed into him.

"EMMETT!! HELP HIM!!" Esme was screaming. But Carlisle knew that Emmett was busy because he had seen him fighting off two other newborns with Alice and Jasper just moments before.

Carlisle skidded across the grass and both newborns were now on him so he swung his legs around and kicked them both aside just long enough so he could pop up and then he knocked the female back twenty feet with his fist before twisting to the side and cracking the male in the arm so hard his arm came off in Carlisle's hand. The male staggered but the female was running back toward him screaming. Carlisle swung the dismembered arm at the female's damaged abdomen and he heard a sickening crack where the earlier injury gave way, and her torso fell forward as she split in half. Suddenly, however, the male with his remaining arm managed to get a strangle hold on Carlisle's neck. He tried several escape moves but the newborn's strength was keeping him solidly attached to Carlisle's back, and he heard the very soft creak at his neck as a sharp pain radiated through his old web scar and Carlisle cried out.

Then there was a thunderous gallop behind him and a roar that filled the clearing, and Carlisle was thrown forward and his face slammed into the dirt. The newborn on his back was screaming and something was pulling on it even as it was still trying to separate Carlisle from his head. But suddenly the newborn's scream was cut short and then the newborn's body and remaining arm were yanked off of him. Before he could push himself up from the dirt someone had grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up.

"Why would you take on two by yourself?" Esme cried.

Carlisle kissed her quickly, and then turned toward the giant wolf who had saved him. "Thank you, Sam!"

Sam still had a dismembered leg in his jaws, so he dropped it and snuffed at Carlisle. The wolves had driven the second unit of newborns into the clearing, so while the Cullens had taken apart four of the eight who attacked them and injured two of the remaining four, another seven of the ten that the werewolves had engaged were now in the mix. However, that meant there was only eleven newborns left, and there were now fifteen on the home team.

The two leaders, Sam and Carlisle, chose a target and while Sam roared as he chased the newborn, his deep black fur bristling, Carlisle came up from behind and twisted the newborn's head off. Sam growled in approval as he and Carlisle finished pulling the newborn apart and then they started a pile with the remains of the first two that had attacked Carlisle. With the next target they switched directions, and Carlisle chased a newborn directly into Sam's steel jaws and he snapped the newborn in half.

Jasper and Paul collided with three newborns at once. Jasper managed to injure one but it ran toward the trees. Alice and Collin arrived to help and Alice grabbed one of the newborns by the leg and snapped it off. The newborn tried on one leg to lunge at Collin, but Paul sank his four-inch teeth into the torso of the newborn and slammed him headfirst into the ground so hard he broke apart in Paul's jaws. Jasper made certain the head did not remain attached. Jacob grabbed the third newborn and he and Emmett engaged in an impromptu tug-of-war and quickly took care of him.

Esme and Quil were staying close to Carlisle and Sam, but suddenly a group of five newborns attacked in a formation. They were undisciplined but as the two largest newborns attacked Carlisle and Sam the other three managed to separate Esme and Quil and drove them off.

Carlisle turned expecting to find Esme behind him but she was gone. He frantically scanned the field and saw the impending slaughter fifty meters away. The newborns had now managed to isolate Esme from Quil; two had Quil cornered and one had Esme and another newborn was headed over toward her.

Carlisle turned back to Sam to ask him to come help him but he had let his guard down for only a split second and a newborn was flying through the air toward him. Carlisle just barely managed to duck and shift in time to swing his fist down and strike the newborn on the back sending him crashing to the ground. Sam grabbed the newborn by the legs, slamming him into the ground over and over until the cracks Carlisle had made finally split the newborn apart.

Carlisle turned desperately toward where he had just seen Esme and Quil but the entire group was gone again. He turned back to Sam looking for the second newborn that had been headed toward them but found Embry had his upper torso in his jaws and was shaking him like a doll then Jasper sprinted by and took off the newborn's head.

"Sam! Esme and Quil were in trouble! Can you find them?" Carlisle gasped.

Sam lifted his towering head which gave him a better view, but he also had telepathic communication with Quil. He turned right and took off running. Carlisle followed behind him and they found Jacob and Quil were dealing with the two that had separated Quil from Esme, but Rosalie trying to tear the arms off a newborn who had gotten a solid grip on Esme's hair. Before Carlisle could reach them Esme swept the newborn's legs out from under her and then she slammed her elbow into the newborn's chest, damaging it enough that Rosalie finally was able to separate its arm. Then with Esme holding it in place, Leah roared and used her teeth to maul the newborn's torso.

Carlilse ran up to Esme and he immediately began checking her head and slender neck. "Are you harmed??" he asked frantically.

Esme pulled his hands away and looked up at him. "I'm fine, my love." Then she reached up and turned his head running her fingers over the fine cracks along the scar on his neck. He flinched slightly as she checked to see how deep the cracks were but he already knew that they would likely be reabsorbed without treatment. Then Esme pulled his chin back toward her and she looked over at Rosalie and grinned, "We are all okay."

"Alice! Where is Victoria?" Carlisle said urgently.

Alice was at Carlisle's side and she put a hand on his shoulder. "Everything is fine, she and her partner attacked Edward and Seth – they are fine –" she squeezed Carlisle's shoulder as he tensed due to her news. "Edward got Victoria and he and Seth finished off the male together. They should be here soon."

Carlisle looked around and saw Emmett had already started a bonfire and was whistling as he and Quil tossed remains into the flames. Most of the other werewolves were fanning out and sniffing the area because Carlisle knew there was at least one or two unaccounted for. But then Sam started growling and took off again. Carlisle looked at Esme and she nodded for him to go. Carlisle caught up with Sam and found him snarling at a newborn that was on her knees with her hands in the air.

"SAM!! STOP!!" Carlisle ran up and put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder, then approached the newborn. "What are you doing, child?"

She blinked at Carlisle and recoiled from him, shielding her eyes. "P-please," she sobbed, "I didn't know! They said we were going to be in a fight, but I was just changed a few days ago! Please don't kill me!"

Carlisle looked back at Sam for a second, and Sam growled low and deep in his throat. He didn't like it, but he could see Carlisle had already decided. Carlisle looked at the newborn. "You surrender to us and you will not fight?"

"Yes!" she said desperately.

Carlisle picked her up by the arm and started back toward the bonfire. Sam kept unblinking eyes on her the entire way back and he was still growling at her.

When they reached the bonfire Jasper charged forward. Even from far away Carlisle could see that Jasper had several new bites that were bright and swollen on his arms where he had thrown them up to defend himself, and he had a deep new one on his neck. "What are you doing, Carlisle?" he said incredulously.

Carlisle gave Jasper a hard look. "This young one has surrendered. She will _not_ be harmed." Jasper's teeth were clenched and he did not move.

Emmett finally stepped forward and took the newborn's arm, then sat her down by the fire. "You see that, little one?" he pointed to the flames. "You move an inch, bare your teeth, or look at any of us crooked and that's where you are going, GOT IT?"

She looked at him balefully and when he raised his brows at her she looked to the ground and nodded her head. Emmett looked up at Carlisle for his approval and Carlisle frowned but he nodded.

Suddenly, Sam turned his head and howled. The entire field echoed with cries from every pack member.

"What is it Sam?" Carlisle walked over to his partner. Sam looked back at Carlisle and whined, then took off again and Carlisle followed.

They headed straight for the tree line and Carlisle could hear two more wolves whimpering. He could see through the darkness that one was pacing nervously, and the other was on the ground and shivering with pain.

Sam stopped to make sure that Leah had properly finished off the newborn that had attacked them, and Carlisle went straight to the russet-colored werewolf which he immediately knew was Jacob Black.

"Jacob, it's Dr. Cullen! Respond if you can hear my voice!" Jacob dutifully whined. "OK, Jacob that's good. Now I need you to stay as calm as possible. I'm going to have a look at your injuries, all right?"

Jacob whined again and groaned when Carlisle picked up his right paw. Without even probing deeply Carlisle knew that Jacob had several broken bones in his right forelimb alone. Carlisle found a fractured hind leg, shattered wrist, and broken ribs. Carlisle put his ear to Jacob's side and confirmed with his excellent hearing that one of the broken ribs had collapsed Jacob's lung.

"He was hiding!" Leah had phased back to human form behind a tree and was yelling at them as she pulled on her clothes. She walked out buttoning her shorts. "He was hiding from us! I found his scent and attacked but he was so fast that he ran up a tree and dropped behind me! Jacob pushed me out of the way and slammed into him, but the newborn got a locked hold on him!" Her face was remorseful as she sat next to Jacob's enormous head and frowned holding back tears. "Jake… I'm so sorry! I'm sorry… for everything. You saved me."

Carlisle looked up at Jacob's eyes again. "Jacob, you have a lot of broken bones. I'm going to brace your limbs and then we are going to have to move you. Can you phase back for me, son?"

Jacob whined again in pain.

"He can't, he can't concentrate," Leah said sadly.

"Carlisle!" Alice ran up. "They're here."

Carlisle bowed his head slightly. "How many?"

Alice tilted her head. "A small group, no more than six."

Carlisle looked up at Sam. "Can you smell them?"

Sam snuffed and then growled.

Carlisle nodded. "We have to get the pack out of here, _now_. We can handle them, they are just a clean-up contingent. You do not need to be involved."

Sam seemed conflicted, but then looked down at Jacob. When he whimpered again, Sam nodded his head.

"Alice, get me four straight tree limbs at least two inches in diameter!" Carlisle pulled off his scarf and jacket and Jacob howled as he checked that the bones were set. Alice returned a moment later. He used the wood and strips of fabric to hold the right forelimb and hind limb. Astoundingly, the bones were already less painful and appeared to be _healing_.

Carlisle sighed with relief. "Well, I envy werewolf healing! You are already mending, Jacob." Jacob tried to move his right side but howled again in pain. "It will take time, but you are going to be fine." Carlisle turned to Sam. "I don't think you are going to be able to carry him. You're going to have to drag him."

Carlisle and Alice pulled apart a dead tree that was mostly hollowed out by termites. The tree shell served nicely as an emergency sled and they carefully laid Jacob on it on his left side. The rest of the pack had arrived including Seth; and, using fabric from their clothes and armbands, they made four tethers, held them in their mouths, and ran away dragging the sled.

Carlisle watched them go as Esme came up behind him. "Edward is coming. I can hear him. And you should take a look at Jasper."

Carlisle turned back to his family and went directly to Jasper. Jasper winced as Carlisle checked the edges of the wound on his neck and forearm. "Carlisle, we really should not keep the newborn with us. It is a danger to us and the Volturi will not like it."

Carlisle looked into Jasper's eyes for a moment and saw true concern. "We will show the Volturi who we are."

"No matter the cost?" Jasper whispered harshly.

Carlisle frowned. "The timing of their appearance suggests that there will be no cost to us today."

"Carlisle!" Edward was yelling as he approached. He was clutching Bella's limp body close to his chest. Carlisle felt as if his world was about to shatter, if Bella was hurt… _What happened, son?_

Edward's brow was creased in pain. "She passed out when I told her about Jacob! But she usually wakes up faster than this! What did I do to her?"

Carlisle sighed with relief. "You probably gave her a major shock, son." Carlisle checked Bella's pulse. "She's fine, just sit down and hold her until she wakes up."

"Carlisle – it's been five minutes," Edward said anxiously.

"She'll come around when she's ready, Edward. She's had too much to deal with today, and Jacob is her best friend. Let her mind protect itself." Carlisle spoke in calming tones.

"Alice, how long do we have?" Edward said tensely.

"Another five minutes. And Bella will open her eyes in thirty-seven seconds. I wouldn't doubt that she can hear us now."

"Bella, honey?" Esme stroked Bella's hair. "Can you hear me? You're safe now, dear."

Slowly Bella came around and immediately asked about Jacob. Carlisle explained everything that had happened and how Jacob had saved Leah. But suddenly, their captive newborn started wailing, and Jasper took a step closer to her, growling. Carlisle was at Jasper's side in an instant with a restraining hand on his son's arm.

"Have you changed your mind, young one?" Carlisle kept his voice calm. "We don't want to destroy you, but we will if you can't control yourself."

"How can you stand it? I want her!" she wailed focusing her crimson eyes on Edward and Bella.

"You must stand it," Carlisle's voice lowered, "You must exercise control. It is possible, and it is the only thing that will save you now." She looked away and clawed the ground as she tried to control herself. Carlisle looked down at her with pity. In every vampire he met who struggled with his or her thirst, he saw an echo of who he once had been. This girl was so young and inexperienced. Carlisle felt certain that any vampire who was given the time and attention could have a fighting chance at abstaining from human blood.

Then Carlisle turned his head; he could hear the Volturi Guard. Jasper had looked in the same direction as Carlisle, and then he looked back at his father. Together they backed up away from the fire and moved closer to Alice, Edward and Bella. Emmett, Rosalie, and Esme converged behind them. They encircled their human sister, and Edward locked his arms around his love.

Carlisle's face was grave as the petite, cloaked form flanked by four other giant gray-cloaked Guards all drifted toward his united family.

"Welcome, Jane," Edward said coolly. He clearly felt his father should only speak to the Volturi themselves. Edward considered Jane, a mere lieutenant, below Carlisle.

Jane was the only one who tossed back her hood and her skin glittered in the morning sunlight.

_Careful, son_, Carlisle said in his mind. Carlisle noted that Jane's angelic features were apathetic as she surveyed the carnage of the battle in the bonfire. Her gaze then moved slowly across all of the Cullens, lingering for a moment on Carlisle's strong, ageless face. Carlisle knew that Aro would have made sure she knew him on sight. Finally, her gaze slipped to the final remaining newborn that sat by the fire with her head in her hands.

Jane looked back at Carlisle. "I don't understand," she said in a toneless but curious voice.

"She has surrendered," Edward explained.

Jane's deep red irises flashed toward Edward. "Surrendered?"

Edward shrugged as if this was a normal thing. "Carlisle gave her the option."

Jane's eyes narrowed at Edward. "There are no _options_ for those who break the rules," she said flatly.

Edward began to open his mouth, but Carlisle stopped him. A fire was growing in his chest. _This one is mine, Edward_.

"That is in your hands" Carlisle said mildly. Jane's eyes jumped back to him. "As long as she was willing to halt her attack on us, _I_ saw no need to destroy her. She was never taught."

Jane seemed to be put slightly off-center by Carlisle's words, "That is irrelevant," she insisted.

Carlisle's brows came down as he leveled a dangerous gaze in her direction, and his anger at her lack of compassion began to build, "As you wish," Carlisle said with quiet intensity and his inner power burst outward. Jasper and Alice both reacted at the same time as Jane and the rest of the Guard as the waves of power rolled off Carlisle. Jasper looked over at Edward and realized that this time even he could feel the effects of Carlisle's power.

Jane stared at Carlisle with uncharacteristic consternation. She quickly composed her features as she lifted her chin and dared to look back into the treacherous depths of Carlisle's topaz eyes. "Aro hoped that we would get far enough west to see you, Carlisle. He sends his regards."

Carlisle nodded but did not relax his wrathful face. "I would appreciate it if you would convey mine to him." Every word Carlisle spoke was sharp as a knife despite the complete calm in Carlisle's tone.

"Of course," Jane smiled, and Edward could not suppress a satisfied grin because Jane's face only betrayed emotion when she was nervous or upset. "It appears that you've done our work for us today… for the most part. Just out of professional curiosity, how many were there? They left quite a wake of destruction in Seattle."

Carlisle's eyes narrowed. _Aro wants to know how strong we have become_, he said to Edward. "Eighteen, including this one," Carlisle said out loud.

Jane's eyes actually widened and then slipped over to the fire again, seeming to reassess the size of it. Felix and one of the other Guards stared at Carlisle and then exchanged a long glance with each other.

_Tread carefully now, Edward, they are becoming unsure of themselves_, Carlisle thought.

"Eighteen?" Jane repeated with more emotion seeping into her voice.

"All brand-new," Carlisle said evenly. "They were unskilled."

Jane's eyes narrowed again. "All? Then who was their creator?" Her voice became sharp.

Edward took over again, "Her name was Victoria."

Jane turned to Edward, lifting her brows, "'Was'?"

Edward inclined his head toward the eastern forest and Jane's eyes focused on the small curl of smoke from the second fire. Then she looked back to the bonfire in front of her and appeared to consider her next move.

_We appear to have moved completely beyond what Aro told her to expect_, Carlisle mused.

"This Victoria – she was _in addition_ to the eighteen here?" Jane's eyes were still on the bonfire.

Edward replied again. "Yes, she had one other with her. He was not as young as this one, but less than a year."

Jane now seemed completely shaken, "Twenty," she breathed. "Who dealt with the creator?"

Edward's voice took on a deep growling tone that did not sound human. "I did."

Jane's eyes narrowed, and she turned to the girl beside the fire. "You there, your name," she said harshly. The newborn did not respond quickly enough, and Jane smiled at her angelically as she sent an unseen force from her mind to the girl's body. The girl arched stiffly and was distorted into an unnatural position as her scream pierced the air. Jane was still smiling when she released the newborn. "Your name," she commanded.

"Bree," the newborn gasped, but Jane smiled again and Bree screamed in pain.

"She'll tell you anything you want to know. You don't have to do that," Edward growled.

"Bree, is his story true? Were there twenty of you?" Jane's voice was cold again.

Bree's face was in the dirt as she panted, "Nineteen or twenty, maybe more, I don't know! Sara and one whose name I don't know got in a fight on the way…"

Jane continued to press Bree for more details to confirm her fears, that the Cullens had become more powerful than she or the rest of the Volturi ever imagined.

_Jane is betraying more than she intended, but she knows Aro will be quite upset if she comes back with anything less than the full story_, Carlisle told Edward.

Jane half-smiled, "I can't deny that I'm impressed. I've never seen a coven escape this magnitude of offensive intact. Do you know what was behind it? It seems like extreme behavior, considering the way you live here. And why was the girl the key?" Her eyes flickered over Bella's face for a second.

"Victoria held a grudge against Bella," Edward said impassively.

Jane laughed lightly, "This one seems to bring out bizarrely strong reactions in our kind," she said and then smiled directly at Bella.

Edward stiffened and Carlisle turned to look at Bella. Edward had told him that Bella was not only immune to Edward's gifts, but every Volturi including Aro himself. It did not stop Carlisle cringing in fear for Bella's safety, but he quickly saw that his fears were without merit, Bella was completely unaffected by Jane's horrific gift.

"Would you please not do that?" Edward's jaw and voice were tight.

Jane laughed again, "Just checking. No harm done, apparently." Then the old apathy crept back into her voice, "Well, it appears that there's not much left for us to do. Odd," she sighed. "We're not used to being rendered unnecessary. It's too bad we missed the fight. It sounds like it would have been entertaining to watch."

Edward had heard enough. Their intended timing had obvious motivations. "Yes," he said sharply, "And you were so close. It's a shame you didn't arrive just a half hour earlier. Perhaps then you could have fulfilled your _purpose_ here."

Jane met Edward's glare with unwavering eyes. "Yes. Quite a pity how things turned out, isn't it?" Then she turned back to Bree. "Felix?"

Edward stepped forward, "Wait," he looked over at Carlisle. "We could explain the rules to the young one. She doesn't seem unwilling to learn. She didn't know what she was doing."

Carlisle swelled with pride in his son. "Of course. We would certainly be prepared to take responsibility for Bree."

Jane seemed to be so shocked she was amused. "We don't make exceptions, and we don't give second chances. It's bad for our reputation. Which reminds me…" She looked back at Bella. "Caius will be _so_ interested to hear that you're still human, Bella. Perhaps he'll decide to visit," Jane's lips curled with delight.

"The date for her transformation is set," Alice hissed. "Perhaps _we'll_ come to visit _you_ in a few months."

Jane's smile actually faded, and Carlisle's cold heart shrank. He now knew for certain that the Volturi actually considered his family a threat. Aro was looking for any excuse to interfere with the Cullens. This situation was not over; it was just beginning.

Jane turned back to Carlisle. "It was nice to meet you, Carlisle," she said, her eyes sweeping him from head to toe. "I'd thought Aro was exaggerating." Then she looked into his amber eyes which were still tight. "Well, until we meet again…" Jane turned away from the Cullens. "Take care of that, Felix," Jane nodded toward Bree, her voice returning to exquisite boredom. "I want to go home."

Carlisle leveled a vicious gaze at all of the Volturi Guard as Bree's final scream was cut off and then her remains tossed into the fire. A final surge of power flowed off Carlisle, and Jane tried to not betray its effect on her. She failed but did not turn around, and resumed walking away.

"Come," she commanded, and the tall gray cloaks followed her into the morning mist.

Carlisle was back at the hospital less than six hours after the confrontation with the Volturi Guard, smiling at his patients as if he had arrived with a good night's rest. Carlisle knew that his problems were no more important than any person who finds their family or life in danger. Humans faced such vulnerability and uncertainty far more often than vampires. And he had duties to humans that were just as important as his duty to his family.

Carlisle was dropping off the chart from his last patient into the ICU carousel when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the number. It was a call from Alaska. Carlisle quickly left the ICU and ducked into the doctor's lounge.

"Hello?"

"Carlisle! Thank God – I can't tell you how good it is to hear your voice!" Eleazar sounded overcome with emotion. "When we returned and Tanya told me what happened, it took all of my control not to tear her apart. If it hadn't been for Carmen I might have done," Eleazar growled.

Carlisle sighed, "There's no need, my friend. Our enemy and the newborn army are dead, we have all survived, and the Volturi Guard are gone."

Eleazar paused on the other end. "Jane?"

Carlisle chuckled. "Of course. She arrived right after the battle ended."

Eleazar groaned. "Damn, Aro. Damn him to hell."

Carlisle nodded. "If he had tried to destroy me and failed when I left Volterra he would have lost everything. But once he met Alice, Edward and Bella he was content to sit by and see if a newborn army would be enough to overpower my family. Unfortunately, now Jane is reporting to him that we have grown quite strong," he sighed. And then he smiled. "But, I actually have some good news, and I expect to see you soon."

"Why? What is it?" Eleazar was intrigued.

Carlisle chuckled again. "Edward proposed to Bella. They are getting married this summer, and I want you to bring all of the girls with you. We will not be split apart like this again over a traitor like Laurent."

"You have my word, Carlisle." Eleazar said with conviction.


	25. Chapter 23: 2006

CHAPTER 23

~~2006~~

BREAKING DAWN

Carlisle flipped through his favorite photo album. It was the album Tanya had made of his wedding to Esme in Denali. Carlisle smiled to himself as he recalled every detail of that day. Esme's hair had been twisted into ringlet curls and pinned to the base of her head, and the flowers that were sprinkled into her hair were covered with fine lace. Her voice had trembled slightly as she spoke the vows, and Carlisle had become so lost in her eyes he forgot to say, "I do." Instead, he said, "My love, forever." The pastor of the tiny church had chuckled, and so did Edward and Eleazar, but Esme had sobbed with happiness and every time he repeated the endearment she smiled like she had the day of their wedding.

Edward's wedding to Bella had been much more of an event with dozens of guests, and stamped all over with Alice's sense of style and theatrics. He suspected that both Edward and Bella would have chosen a day that resembled Carlisle and Esme's wedding, but Edward understood that there was more at stake than his own happiness; he would have suffered Alice's wrath for centuries if he had refused her wedding planning skills. Carmen and Kate in particular had praised Alice's excellent taste.

The reunion with the Denali coven had been bittersweet. They arrived as Bella and the rest of the family were dressing. Jasper brought them up to Carlisle's office so they could talk away from the gathering throng of guests. Emmett and Carlisle were standing in their tuxedos and Esme's silver dress shimmered and moved even though she stood perfectly still when Jasper opened the door. Jasper joined Emmett and stood at attention as his brother crossed his thick arms. Carlisle walked directly to Eleazar.

"Carlisle!" Eleazar embraced his old friend and kissed both cheeks. Then he turned to the others. "Thank you, for having us."

"All of you are welcome in our home," Esme said graciously and smiled at Eleazar. Emmett and Jasper did not smile.

Eleazar turned back to Carlisle, but his eyes slipped downward to Carlisle's starched tuxedo collar and his brows came together. He put a hand on his shoulder and then with his other hand he turned Carlisle's head to the right and looked more intently at the old scar on his neck – then Eleazar's grip on Carlisle's shoulder tightened.

"_They_ did this to you?" Eleazar seethed as he pointed to dozens of new thin scars where the old injury had cracked and nearly given way to the newborn's strength as he had tried to pull off Carlisle's head. Eleazar was only too familiar with such injuries and his worst fears were confirmed because he instantly knew how close Carlisle had come to death. Kate covered her mouth in horror as she stared at the scars and Tanya's eyes were wide with disbelief at the thought that Carlisle could actually be hurt.

Carlisle gently removed Eleazar's grasp and straightened his bow tie and black opera scarf. "It is nothing, Eleazar." The injury had been sore for weeks after the battle, and he had only recently gotten full range of motion back.

Eleazar's amber eyes were nearly glowing with fury and he pointed at Jasper's new venom scar on his neck as he raised his voice. "I can see where they got your son! How deep were the cracks, Carlisle? Where _else_ were you injured?"

Eleazar's wrath when he returned home to find that the girls had denied the Cullens aid in a time of need was entirely due to his fear for the family's safety. The Denali girls knew only too well that he held them responsible for any injury the Cullens suffered. Carlisle wanted to stop any further reproach, and put up his hand.

"It is my _only_ injury. I swear to you, I am well. And, it is now in the _PAST_," he said firmly. He held Eleazar's eyes with his and slowly Eleazar brought his rage under control. When Eleazar had relaxed once more Carlisle turned to Tanya, "Where is Irina?"

Tanya frowned sadly. "I'm sure you have already guessed, she is anywhere but here."

Carlisle's face fell and he walked back to his desk and then sat on the edge with his arms crossed. "I had hoped this would be a complete reconciliation."

Tanya shook her head. "We are trying to reach her, Carlisle. All I can do right now is offer my sincere apology for my part in this. I cannot speak for Irina."

Kate put a hand on Tanya's shoulder. "And I must apologize too, Carlisle. I initially supported Irina. I was angry with you for choosing the wolves over us," she said remorsefully.

Tanya nodded, "And I was angry for… for…"

"For Edward choosing Bella over you," Carlisle finished.

Tanya nodded, lifting her chin to face her errors with direct honesty. "I was angry at all of you after I saw how much you all loved her when Alice saw her commit suicide. I was prepared to see that Edward is first in your hearts, but I was surprised how much you cared about her. And, yes, I was most of all angry with Edward. And I _will_ get over that," she said with conviction.

Carmen put her arms around them. "Oh, my girls. Can you forgive their anger? Please, Emmett, Jasper? You must see their hearts are remorseful?"

Jasper still did not smile. "If not for our alliance with the Quileute, some or all of us would be _dead_."

Tanya dropped her eyes; Kate glanced sadly at Carlisle's new scars.

Emmett put a hand on Jasper's shoulder. "Jasper is very protective of Alice, and the entire family. He puts our security on his shoulders. I can forgive you, but only _once_. And I can't speak for the others."

"Where are Edward, Alice and Rosalie?" Tanya said contritely.

"And _Bella_?" Carlisle added with quiet intensity.

"Yes, and Bella, of course," Tanya shook her head with embarrassment.

"The girls are helping Bella dress. Edward is out at the moment extending a special invitation to one of Bella's closest _werewolf_ friends, right now," Esme said plainly.

Carlisle walked forward again and put his hands in his pockets as he looked down his nose at Tanya. She eventually looked up into his face and waited to feel the full force of his distain. Instead, his face was sad; so terribly sad that she felt her throat close up and she had to look away to keep from losing control of her emotions.

"Carlisle, I'm sorry I spoke so disrespectfully of your daughter when you called to ask for our help. And I swear: I will welcome Bella into the family. Please, forgive me," she whispered.

Carlisle looked at the floor and sighed. "Tanya, I can speak for everyone who is not here: they all forgive you, including Edward. And I forgive you for your actions. However, only you can know your heart. I cannot hope to know how you truly feel about us. All I can pray for is that you still consider yourself part of the family, and will from this day forward honor all of us, including Bella, as your blood."

Tanya sniffed, and then reached out and took Carlisle's hand and looked up into his grieved eyes. "I love you like my brother, Carlisle, I always have. And your family is my family."

Carlisle nodded and bent down to wrap his arms around her. Then Tanya walked around the room and hugged everyone but Jasper who would only shake her hand. Kate, Carmen and Eleazar did the same.

Carlisle looked up at the framed portrait on his desk of the family at his wedding. Next to that was another photo of the entire family at Rosalie and Emmett's first wedding, and next to that was the entire family at Jasper and Alice's wedding. Soon, he would have a similar photo from Edward and Bella's wedding of the entire family again, which would always include the Denali coven.

Carlisle put down his album and stood up. He had to prepare for his shift at the hospital, and the time for self-indulgence was over. He was descending the stairs carrying his briefcase when he heard Alice yelling.

"Give me your phone!" she demanded. Carlisle surmised she was yelling at Jasper. He flew down the stairs into the living room where Alice was already dancing back and forth mumbling, "Pick up! Pick up! PICK UP!"

Carlisle looked over at Jasper and put down his briefcase, but Jasper could only shrug with confusion.

Finally, Alice stopped pacing. "Bella? Bella, are you okay?" Alice was trying to keep her voice calm. She paused as Bella answered. Alice's eyes locked with Carlisle's. "He is. What's the problem?" He immediately held his hand out for the phone, but Alice did not hand it over. "Is Edward all right?" Alice asked warily. He waved his hand at Alice, wordlessly demanding the phone. "Carlisle!" Alice hissed covering the mouthpiece, and then turned back to the phone. "Why didn't he pick up the phone? Bella, what's going on? I just saw – "

Carlisle crossed the room in a blur and put his hand in Alice's face with an expression so terrible she shrank. "Here's Carlisle," she said finally, and she handed him the phone.

He put the phone to his ear, "Bella, it's Carlisle. What is going on?"

"I – I'm a little worried about Edward… Can vampires go into shock?" Bella's nervous voice wavered slightly, but she didn't sound panicked.

Carlisle however, was already imagining all of the possible ways a vampire could be rendered incapacitated. "Has he been harmed?" Carlisle said urgently.

"No, no, just…taken by surprise," Bella's voice seemed strangely elusive.

Carlisle's brow creased, "I don't understand, Bella."

"I think… well, I think that… maybe… I might be…pregnant," Bella seemed almost unable to say the word out loud.

Carlisle stood in the middle of the living room frozen in shock. Alice looked questioningly into his eyes, concerned that whatever was affecting Edward had somehow affected Carlisle too. But suddenly, he seemed to recover.

"When was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?"

"Sixteen days before the wedding," Bella sounded certain.

Carlisle nodded, her math was correct. "How do you feel?"

"Weird. This is going to sound crazy – look, I know it's way too early for any of this. Maybe I _am_ crazy. But I'm having bizarre dreams and eating all the time and crying and throwing up and… and… I swear something _moved_ inside me just now." Bella was sniffing as she spoke, she seemed barely in control of her emotions as she made her case. But then she paused, "Um, I think Edward wants to talk to you."

Carlisle sighed with relief, "Put him on."

"Is it possible?" Edward whispered into the phone.

Carlisle sat down on the couch. "Edward, to the best of my knowledge our DNA is transferred by venom infection only. I have never conducted fertility studies. I did not even entertain the idea that it would be possible for us to _procreate_ after the transformation. This is completely unknown to me, but everything Bella is describing suggests that… I was wrong."

"And Bella?" Edward's voice cracked slightly.

"Edward, listen to me very carefully: if this is real, and she is carrying a child with vampire DNA, I have no idea how her body will react to it. She may reject the fetus completely, or her body may attempt an immunity attack recognizing it as containing foreign DNA. I also have no idea how the fetus will react to _her_." Carlisle leaned forward resting his head on his hand. "You need to bring her home so I can terminate this pregnancy – _immediately_." The strain in Carlisle's voice was unmistakable. Jasper and Alice exchanged glances.

"Yes. Yes, I will," and Edward ended the call.

Carlisle stared straight ahead for a moment, and then he looked down at the phone and pressed end. Then he quickly dialed another number. "This is Dr. Cullen. I have a family emergency. I will be out of town for the next week. Yes. Yes. Thank you." Carlisle hung up, and then dialed another number. "This is Dr. Carlisle Cullen, I need to place an order for the Forks Community Hospital." He ordered everything from surgical supplies, including Bella's blood type, to a fetal heart monitor.

Then without a word Carlisle left the house to start collecting what he needed.

Carlisle opened the back door onto the porch and saw Jacob Black's head look up at him with surprise. "Are you all right, Jacob?"

Jacob's face fell slightly as Carlisle walked toward him. He seemed to take Carlisle's appearance on the porch as a bad sign. "Is Bella…?"

Carlisle shook his head and waved his hand, "She's much the same as last night. Did I startle you? I'm sorry. Edward said you were coming from the forest in your human form, and I came out to greet you, as he didn't want to leave her. She's awake."

Jacob frowned up at Carlisle; his eyes said that he knew Carlisle was holding back. Jacob sat down on the bottom porch step and slumped against the railing. Carlisle felt as spent as Jacob looked. He walked down to the step where Jacob was sitting and leaned against the opposite railing, his elbows on his knees and his hands folded.

"I didn't get a chance to thank you last night, Jacob. You don't know how much I appreciate your…compassion. I know your goal was to protect Bella, but I owe you the safety of the rest of my family as well. Edward told me what you had to do."

"Don't mention it," Jacob muttered. Carlisle could see that Jacob did not want to talk about leaving his Quileute werewolf pack and going against their resolve to destroy the human vampire half-breed and its mother, who Jacob was in love with. Jacob looked toward the house anxiously and then he tried to turn his attention away from what was happening inside.

"She's family to you?"

Carlisle nodded slowly, "Yes. Bella is already a daughter to me. A beloved daughter."

Jacob's brows came together and his eyes narrowed, "But you're going to let her _die_."

Carlisle felt Jacob's words cut him like a knife shoved into his sternum. He was quiet for so long, Jacob finally turned his angry eyes on Carlisle waiting for an answer. Carlisle sighed and wiped his face, "I can imagine what you think of me for that," he finally said with an exhausted voice. "But I can't ignore her will. It wouldn't be right for me to make such a choice for her, to force her, even if it would save her life."

Jacob seemed to acknowledge Carlisle's reasoning reluctantly. "Do you think there's any chance she'll make it? I mean, as a vampire and all that. She told me about… about Esme."

Carlisle looked out into the forest, his eyes far away in a different time. "I'd say there's about an even chance at this point. I've seen vampire venom work miracles." Carlisle unconsciously rubbed the web of scars that covered the left side of his neck as he remembered finding all of Esme's broken bones healed as the venom spread. "But there are conditions that even venom cannot overcome. Her heart is working too hard now; if it should fail…there won't be anything for me to do." As if on cue, Carlisle heard Bella's heart rhythm falter, then recover and Carlisle closed his eyes and sighed.

"What is that _thing_ doing to her?" Jacob whispered.

"The fetus isn't compatible with her body. Too strong, for one thing, but she could probably endure that for a while. The bigger problem is that it won't allow her to get the sustenance she needs. Her body is rejecting every form of nutrition. I'm trying to feed her intravenously, but she's just not absorbing it, much the way vampires react to eating food. Everything about her condition is accelerated. I'm watching her – and not just her, but the fetus as well – starve to death by the hour. I can't stop it and I can't slow it down. I can't figure out what it _wants_." Carlisle's weary voice broke at the end and he clenched his fists. "I wish I could get a better idea of what exactly it is," Carlisle murmured. "The fetus is so well protected. I haven't even been able to produce an ultrasonic image. I doubt there is any way to get a needle through the amniotic sac, but Rosalie won't agree to let me try, in any case."

Jacob growled at the mention of Rosalie's name. She was an unrepentant and constantly vigilant protector of both Bella and the baby that she could only dream of having herself. Carlisle understood that Jacob believed Rosalie had more sinister motivations, but he knew at least that Rosalie was merely standing up for what Bella wanted: to keep her baby even if it meant her life.

"A needle? What good would that do?" Jacob said.

"The more I know about the fetus, the better I can estimate what it will be capable of and how to help Bella. What I wouldn't give for even a little amniotic fluid. If I knew even the chromosomal count…"

"You're losing me, Doc. Can you dumb it down?"

Carlisle chuckled, even his laugh sounded exhausted. "Okay, how much biology have you taken? Did you study chromosomal pairs?"

"We have twenty-three, right?"

Carlisle nodded. "Humans do."

Jacob paused. "How many do you have?"

"Twenty-five."

Jacob frowned for a moment. "What does that mean?"

Carlisle looked away. "I thought it meant that our species were almost completely different. Less related than a lion and a house cat. But this new life – well, it suggests that we're more genetically compatible than I'd thought." He sighed sadly, "I didn't know to warn them."

Carlisle turned back toward the door and looked at it expectantly as he heard Edward ask Rosalie to join him out on the porch. Carlisle sat up straight and composed his features as Edward and Rosalie walked out onto the porch.

"What is it, Edward?" Carlisle's voice was stronger, his fatigue completely hidden.

"Perhaps we've been going about this the wrong way. I was listening to you and Jacob just now, and when you were speaking of what the… fetus wants, Jacob had an interesting thought. We haven't actually addressed that angle. We've been trying to get Bella what she needs. Perhaps we should address the needs of the…fetus first. Maybe if we can satisfy it, we'll be able to help her more effectively." Edward tripped over the word _fetus_ every time he used it, unable to hide his ire.

Carlisle frowned at his son. "I'm not following you, Edward."

"Think about it, Carlisle. If that creature is more vampire than human, can't you guess what it craves – what it's not getting? Jacob did."

Carlisle's face changed. "Oh, you think it is… _thirsty_?" He sounded surprised.

"Of course. Carlisle, we have all that type O negative laid aside for Bella. It's a good idea," Rosalie's took a step closer to him and her eyes glowed with hope.

Carlisle put his hand to his chin, "I wonder… And, what would be the best way to administer…"

Rosalie shook her golden head, "We don't have time to be creative. I'd say we should start with the traditional way."

Carlisle took a deep breath, and then he was on his feet. "We'll ask Bella."

Carlisle sped down the rain slick roads because his S55 AMG barely noticed the wet. In the trunk he had a cooler full of fresh whole blood. Edward and Jacob's theory had proven correct and Bella was now regularly drinking and her health was improving. She had completely depleted the supply he had obtained when he thought he would be performing surgery on her.

Nothing had gone as he had expected and it made him nervous to be away from the house, but of course no one else could do this errand. Carlisle had to visit the supplier in Seattle to prevent raising suspicion on where all of the blood was going. If Bella had not improved so much with the blood nutrition he could never have gone so far away from the situation.

For the first time in days Carlisle felt hopeful, but the unknown was the delivery; he overestimated the quantity he thought she might consume before the delivery to account for the delivery too. It would have to be a cesarean and he was going to remove her entire uterus because they would likely have to either allow the baby to break out of its impermeable sac, or he would have to tear through it himself. Bella did not care about her uterus, just the baby. Carlisle also found that for the first time he was actually invested in saving the baby as well as Bella, and that made him very happy. There had been so much tension and conflict in the house it was exhausting him.

As he thought of the general fatigue he had been fighting through this ordeal Carlisle felt a strange sensation, in his right side. He looked down at his right hand: _it was shaking_. Carlisle clenched his hand into a fist, and he frowned. _Not now! They need me!_

Suddenly, the Bluetooth rang in his car. Carlisle took one cleansing breath and tapped his steering wheel. "Hello?"

Screaming echoed through the speakers of the car in stereo and his heart sank. It was Bella screaming. She was early, by Carlisle's calculations she was almost twelve hours early.

"Carlisle!!" Alice's voice was frantic.

"Alice! Tell me exactly what is happening!" Carlisle's voice was calm but urgent, and hid his mounting panic. With perfect clarity he could hear Bella was screaming, "_GET HIM OUT!_"

"She's delivering, Carlisle!" Alice sounded as if she was going to cry, and in the background Carlisle heard very clearly the sound of Bella vomiting and Edward shouting, "_Let the morphine spread_!"

"Alice! Give your phone to Edward!" Carlisle shouted, but Alice wasn't listening to him anymore. He heard Rosalie scream, "_There's no time! He's dying!_"

Edward yelled, "_No, Rose!_"

There were sounds of a major struggle, and Carlisle pressed harder on the gas pedal, pushing his speed up to 180 miles per hour. Suddenly, Jacob cried out in pain.

Edward shouted, "_Alice get her out of here!_"

The phone went dead.

Carlisle was almost four hours away just outside Seattle.

Carlisle broke every law possible speeding back to the house. His senses allowed him to avoid any possible obstacles and law enforcement. He was now less than two miles from the house, and pushing his car even faster because he knew every bump and corner of the roads near his home in Forks.

Carlisle pulled up to the front of the house and slid to a stop. He popped the trunk as he jumped from the driver's side leaving his door and the trunk open, and snatched the cooler as he sped to the door.

When he threw the door open he saw Rosalie sitting calmly and rocking back and forth on the white couches in the living room and it was silent in the house. Carlisle looked more closely at Rosalie and saw that she was holding a small bundle and she was whispering sweet words. Carlisle cautiously moved closer because he had detected a strange new scent, and – a heartbeat.

"Renesmee, I'd like you to meet your grandfather. His name is Carlisle," Rosalie cooed and then she turned to her father and held the baby up so he could see her face.

Renesmee's enormous chocolate-brown eyes instantly pulled on Carlisle's cold heart. He could not stop himself from smiling at her and he was shocked but delighted when she responded by giving him a delighted grin that was full of pearl white teeth. Curls that were the same color as Edward's caramel locks framed her round face. Then she reached out toward the bottle full of blood that Rosalie was holding, and immediately took a long sip.

Carlisle remembered what he was carrying in the cooler. "Bella," he whispered.

"Carlisle, I need you!" Edward called quietly from upstairs. Carlisle barely registered that Jacob Black was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase and staring wistfully and lovingly at Renesmee.

Carlisle dropped the cooler by the door of his office and immediately went over to the table where Bella's unmoving body lay. The entire room looked like something out of a horror film. Alice and Esme had cleaned the ceiling and all of his furniture and belongings, but they were still cleaning the blood stained floor and spatters on the walls with bleach. Bella's abdomen was still cut open and her obliterated uterus lay in a steel pan on the surgical tray. Edward was leaning over Bella. He had stripped off his shirt for Alice to dispose of but his pants were still covered with blood.

"I've given her as much venom as I could push into her, and she was completely dosed with morphine before I started," Edward said with a strained voice.

Carlisle looked down at Bella again. He leaned closer and sniffed the top of Bella's head. Then he picked up her limp hand and sniffed her fingers. Then he looked up at Edward.

"She hasn't moved once, Carlisle. She hasn't made a single sound." Edward looked back at Carlisle with grieved eyes. "Was I too late?" he whispered.

Carlisle shook his head no. _Son, I can smell the venom spreading. _Carlisle laid a hand on Bella's chest and looked up at Edward. "The woman you love is a fighter like I have never seen before. She is transforming."

Carlisle looked down at Renesmee curiously and she looked back up at him with the same expression. She tilted her head to one side, and Carlisle smiled. She giggled when he smiled. She tried her new trick again and tilted her head. When Carlisle smiled once more she squealed with delight at her success. Carlisle picked her up from the scales and tucked her into his arm as he reached for his measuring tape.

"Nessie, would you be so kind as to stretch for me again?" he said, holding the measuring tape in front of her. She reached up and put a hand on his face, and suddenly his mind was filled with pictures of the measuring tape and an overwhelming feeling of boredom.

Carlisle gasped. "Nessie, what was that?"

Her chocolate-brown eyes looked into his and she tilted her head again. When Carlisle's smile returned she pressed her hand to his face again and his mind was filled with dozens of pictures of him smiling and a powerful feeling of happiness every time Carlisle smiled.

Carlisle looked down at her and chuckled. "Are you telling me that you love it when I smile at you, but you are bored by my measurements?"

Renesmee blinked at him because naturally she didn't understand him yet, but when Carlisle started laughing she grinned.

"Rosalie! Rose!" Carlisle called.

Rosalie was there in an instant. "Does she need something? What is it, Nessie?" Rosalie said lovingly.

Carlisle's face was full of excitement. "Has she shown you her thoughts yet? It is brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"

Rosalie's perfect brow wrinkled slightly. "I don't understand."

Carlisle suddenly realized that this might be new. He looked down at Renesmee. "Did you just communicate with me because you desperately wanted to avoid being measured?" She blinked up at him again and he laughed out loud. Renesmee giggled at the sound of his laughter. "Sweetheart, I must measure you, but I'm going to let Auntie Rosalie hold you, all right?"

Carlisle handed over his granddaughter and retrieved the measuring tape. As soon as he picked it up, however, Renesmee looked over at Rosalie and she put her hand on Roslie's face. Rosalie gasped.

"I think – she just told me that she is bored with measuring, and she is hungry!" Rosaile cried with delight.

"Feeding! Oh, yes! Let me do this quickly!" Carlisle moved his hands so fast they were unseen. "Done, Nessie! Let's go try some of the new formula I bought, OK?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes at Carlisle and followed him toward the kitchen. "Carlisle, you know that she hates that stuff."

Carlisle chuckled, "Yes, but we need to learn more about what she wants and what she needs. Trying new things is the only way."

Rosalie rolled her eyes again but could not help smiling because Carlisle's excitement was so infectious. By the time she sat down with Renesmee by the table, Carlisle had already mixed and heated the first bottle. He held it in front of Renesmee and she looked up at her grandfather with a questioning expression.

Carlisle smiled. "Go on, just taste it. I have three more for you to try if you don't like it."

Renesmee sniffed the nipple. She was wary but put her tiny hand on the side of the bottle as Carlisle gently eased it into her mouth. She took two draws on the bottle and then turned her head, stuck out her tongue and the formula dribbled down her chin. Carlisle laughed as Rosalie quickly wiped away the mess.

Carlisle brought the next bottle. This time she frowned at him. Carlisle knew what would entice her to try again. He knelt down in front of her and smiled winningly at her. "Please, Nessie? Just try one more?"

She looked at the bottle uncertainly, and took one sip. This time she batted the bottle across the room, and put her hand on Carlisle's face as he laughed. Pictures of red blood filled his mind and deep thirst that was so intense he actually had to pull away from her touch. He collected himself and smiled at her again. "All right, Nessie. No more experimenting today."

Rosalie was ready and carried her as she filled a sippy cup full of blood and then held it in front of her beloved niece. Nessie squealed with delight and put the spout in her mouth sucking happily.

Carlisle smiled at Rosalie, "I'm going to check on Edward and Bella." He patted her on the shoulder and flew up the stairs to his office.

The room was clean and Bella was changed into a blue silk dress that Alice had delivered that morning after Esme finished bathing her. Edward stood on her right side, and was holding her hand in his as he stroked her hair tenderly.

Carlisle walked around to the left side of the bed and pressed his cool fingers to her wrist checking her racing pulse. "Still no change?"

Edward shook his head balefully. "None." He leaned down and took a light sniff of her forehead. "There's no scent of the morphine left."

"I know," Carlisle said as he pressed his fingers lightly on her chest where her racing heart was bouncing up against her newly unbreakable ribs.

"Bella? Can you hear me?" Edward whispered into her ear. No response. Edward lifted her hand slightly. "Bella? Bella, love? Can you open your eyes? Can you squeeze my fingers?" No response. Edward sighed. "Maybe…Carlisle, maybe I _was_ too late." His voice broke on the word _late_. "No one has ever remained completely silent through this!"

Carlisle reached across the table and put a hand on Edward's shoulder. "Listen to her heart, Edward. It's stronger than even Emmett's was. I've never heard anything so _vital_. She'll be _perfect_."

"Please, Carlisle. I will feel much more at ease if you stay behind me just until we see her immediate reaction," Jasper pleaded.

Carlisle knew that Jasper meant well, and that he had been present at the awakening of hundreds more newborns than Carlisle had. "I will wait until she becomes fully aware."

Jasper sighed. "I simply want to make sure she won't try to tear through us to get to Nessie."

Carlisle smiled. "You mean you'd rather she tries to tear through you before me. You know that is unnecessary."

Jasper put a hand on Carlisle's shoulder. "Let me do this, for Esme's sake."

"Of course, son."

"Carlisle!" Edward called.

Jasper, Alice and Carlisle ran up the staircase and walked in.

Carlisle laid a hand on Bella's chest. "Ah, it's almost over."

"Soon! I'll get the others. Should I have Rosalie…?" Alice asked.

"Yes – keep the baby away," Jasper and Edward said together.

Bella's fingers twitched and all of their heads turned as they sensed her movement. Jasper moved Carlisle and Alice toward the door and stood in front of them.

Edward reached for Bella's twitching fingers. "Bella? Bella, love?" She did not respond, her fingers merely continued to twitch.

"I'll bring them right up," Alice said urgently.

"Just Emmett!" Jasper said anxiously.

Esme, however, was not to be denied. "If you think you can stop me from being here for Bella, think again!" she hissed. Carlisle put an arm around Esme and they smiled at each other. Emmett was shaking with excitement and grinned at Carlisle then took his position next to Jasper.

Bella's heart suddenly fluttered and her back arched but then slumped back to the table as the flutter slowed, and then with a thud her heart stopped. No one breathed. For almost two minutes nothing happened. Then suddenly, Bella took a slow deep breath, almost as if she was testing her lungs. Edward squeezed Bella's hand and her eyes instantly flew open. She jumped off the table and crouched against the wall defensively. Jasper and Emmett spread out their arms protectively in front of the family, but Edward reached out to Bella over the table.

"Bella!" his expression was concerned.

Alice, however, was unworried. She peeked out from behind Jasper's arms and grinned at Bella. Bella saw her, and then looked back at Edward. She quickly stood up straight, as if she suddenly realized that her behavior was improper. Carlisle watched, amazed. Her first instinct was distinctly vampire: crouch and defend. Her second instinct was a learned behavior, but she had only just opened her eyes.

"Bella?" Edward said cautiously. "Bella, love, I know it's disorienting. But you're all right. Everything is fine." Bella continued to stare at Edward mutely, but Carlisle could see in her eyes that she was processing new information at a blinding rate. He smiled watching her. Carlisle remembered the dizzying affect of the rush of vampire senses when he first awoke. It took all of his control not to start screaming. Edward was disoriented for weeks. Esme would stare at things for hours trying to concentrate. Rosalie spent many nights sobbing with Esme dealing with the sensory overload. Emmett was very restless until he got used to it. Bella was skittish but she was taking it all in, and appeared to be handling it well.

Edward reached out and caressed her cheek softly. Her eyes closed for a moment as she absorbed the feelings overwhelming her, and then she threw her arms around Edward. Carlisle tensed as he saw Edward wince. Emmett stepped forward as Edward recoiled slightly, but he put a hand up to Emmett as Bella looked up at him confused by his withdrawal. "Um… carefully, Bella. Ow."

Bella gasped and yanked her arms away, folding them behind her back. "Oops," she whispered. Carlisle smiled again. She was controlling herself so easily. None of the others had learned so quickly. Carlisle looked over at Jasper and saw that he was staring with wide eyes. He had clearly never seen anything like this before either.

"Don't panic, love. You're just a bit stronger than I am for the moment." Edward reached out to her again to reassure her.

Bella's brow creased and she concentrated very hard on gently placing her hand on his cheek. Then she looked deeply into his eyes. "I love you," she said with a clear ringing voice.

Edward sighed and smiled with relief. "As I love you," he whispered back. He slowly leaned forward and kissed Bella. Their kiss deepened and Esme squeezed Carlisle's hand. Then Emmett cleared his throat and chuckled. Bella instantly released Edward and took a step backward. Again, Carlisle marveled at her. Every time it seemed she might get lost in her emotions or actions she corrected herself. Edward chuckled and moved toward her slipping his arm around her waist.

Bella looked back at him and frowned. "You've been holding out on me."

Edward laughed. "It was sort of necessary at the time. Now it's your turn not to break me."

Carlisle had seen enough, and he put a hand on Emmett as he walked toward Bella but Jasper still shadowed his steps. Bella looked at Carlisle and then leaned back slightly and blinked as if she was looking at the sun for the first time. Carlisle had seen that reaction from vampires before when he first met them. When Carlisle looked back at Bella, however, he stared. She seemed to glow, almost as if she was radiating a faint corona. He immediately wondered if that was how he appeared to other vampires.

"How do you feel, Bella?" Carlisle said with a smile.

Bella seemed to enjoy the sound of his voice and instantly smiled. "Overwhelmed. There's so much…" When she spoke her mind seemed to wander and her warm glow pulsed slightly.

Carlisle examined the corona intently. "Yes, it can be quite confusing."

Bella nodded with a quick jerky bob. "But I feel like me, sort of. I didn't expect that."

Edward squeezed her lightly. "I told you so," he whispered.

"You are quite controlled. More so than I expected even with the time you had to prepare yourself mentally for this," Carlisle mused.

"I'm not sure about that," Bella said carefully, glancing sideways at Edward. As she considered her words she pulsed again. She clearly had some sort of mental gift. But that exploration would have to wait.

"It seems like we did something right with the morphine this time. Tell me, what do you remember of the transformation process?" Carlisle's eyes were eager.

Her corona shrank slightly and Carlisle examined the light carefully. It was as if she had pulled her radiance inward. "Everything was… very dim before. I remember the baby couldn't breathe," her head turned instantly to Edward, her brow furrowed, and the corona expanded further than it had before.

Edward responded with fervor. "Renesmee is healthy and well." Then he probed. "What do you remember after that?"

Bella hesitated and her radiating light dimmed again. "It's hard to remember. It was so dark before. And then, I opened my eyes and I could see – _everything_." When she finished her statement she glowed a little more brightly. Carlisle looked at the others and wondered if they could see what he was seeing.

"Amazing," Carlisle breathed. His eyes were alight. "I want you to think – to tell me everything you remember," but then he saw her grimace and he stopped short. "Oh, I'm so sorry Bella, of course your thirst must be very uncomfortable. This conversation can wait."

Bella's hand flew up to her throat and she frowned. Edward took her hand gently. "Let's hunt, Bella."

After they reassured Bella that she could meet Renesmee when her thirst was quenched Bella and Edward left. Jasper stood on the balcony with Alice and Carlisle joined them.

"I have never seen anything like that before," Jasper said quietly.

Carlisle nodded. "She is extraordinary." He leaned forward and looked at both of them. "Did either of you notice a—pulsing corona coming off of her?"

Alice and Jasper looked at each other and then she nodded. "I'm not sure I can see everything you can, Carlisle, but I was telling Jazz that she reminds me of…" she let her voice trail off and she looked at Jasper again.

"Of what?" Carlisle could barely contain his curiosity.

Alice looked at Carlisle. "She reminds me of _you_." Carlisle lifted a brow so Alice explained. "All of the vampires you have transformed have some essence of your power, Carlisle. Something of you has passed to all of them, and they aren't as affected by you as the rest of us. But Bella," Alice shrugged, "she seems to be even stronger than the others. We are only seeing the beginning of what she can do."

"Where is Bella?" Carlisle said as he descended the stairs.

Alice looked up from the chessboard where Edward had just sighed with exasperation and conceded defeat again without moving any of the pieces because they had played the entire match inside their heads. "She's out hunting with Nessie and Jacob, why?"

Carlisle smiled. "I figured that Nessie would be with her. I can wait until they return."

Edward was sulking about his defeat and Alice was dancing around the room relishing her seventieth straight victory when she suddenly stopped and one second later Edward's phone rang.

"What is it, Bella?" Edward was silent as she spoke to him. First his eyes got wide, and then he bolted straight up. "We'll be there in half a minute." Edward closed the phone. "Carlisle! Come with me now!"

Carlisle immediately followed Edward out of the house and higher through the mountains. _What has happened, son?_

"Irina has arrived, and she's threatening Bella and Jacob!" Edward yelled as they ran. Carlisle was livid. No matter what her feelings were toward Laurent, she could never justify this kind of behavior. Edward ran faster and Carlisle pushed to keep up with him. They found the hunting party in a long meadow. He could hear Leah and Seth padding along behind them. Jacob had called in reinforcements.

Bella pointed. "She was up on that ridge. Maybe you should call Emmett and Jasper and have them come with you. She looked…really upset. She growled at me."

"What?" Edward said angrily.

Carlisle put a hand on Edward's arm. Even though he was angry as well, he did not want Edward confronting Irina in this state. "She's still grieving. I'll go after her."

"I'm coming with you," Edward insisted.

Carlisle looked at Edward. _Son, you are not rational right now. You should stay with your wife and daughter._ Edward frowned at him, and Carlisle did not want to take the time to argue. _You will let me do all of the talking when we find her._ Edward nodded.

"We will be back soon with an answer," Carlisle said calmly.

The trail was barely more than two minutes old. They followed it all the way to Clallam Bay where the trail ended at the water. They swam the Straight of Juan de Fuca hoping to find the trail on the other side, but there was nothing.

When they returned to the house Carlisle called Denali and told them of the incident. "Do you know why she would have reacted this way? Does she still harbor such harsh feelings?"

Tanya was at a loss. "We haven't seen her since we decided to go to the wedding. I'm sorry, Carlisle. This has turned into something that I deeply regret. We will keep you up to date in our search for her."

Carlisle nodded. "Of course. Good luck."

"And good luck to you and Bella. I cannot believe you are going through with your plan, but I'm sure Aro will be beside himself with _joy_ to see you back in Volterra of your own free will," Tanya said acidly.

Carlisle sighed. "We have no choice. Caius will never leave us alone until he sees Bella has been changed."

Tanya paused. "I just hope it's enough for them to stop their obsession with you."

Just a few days before the trip to Italy, Carlisle and Edward were staring at a map of Brazil. Their research into children like Renesmee had led to several accounts of Ticuna legend that talked about children springing half grown from their dead mother's wombs which sounded suspiciously like vampire child legends. Everyone was concerned about Renesmee's accelerated growth so they were searching for any information that might tell them exactly how long her lifespan would be. There was an unspoken concern that is she was more human, that she did not have much time left. After placating the Volturi, they would leave for Brazil and be in Ticuna territory a week later.

Jasper spoke from across the room. "Let it go, Alice; she's not our concern."

Carlisle looked up at Alice and saw her stick her tongue out at Jasper then pick up another crystal vase. She had been arranging and rearranging Esme's flowers all morning, trying to distract herself, no doubt.

Suddenly, there was a whistle of air flying past a perfect crystal edge and an ear-splitting crash as the vase Alice had been holding shattered on the hardwood floors into thousands of pieces. Then Carlisle heard Edward gasp behind him.

Jasper leapt across the room and grabbed Alice by the shoulders. "_What? What, Alice?_"

Emmett scanned the windows looking for an attack.

Alice and Edward were standing still as statues on opposite sides of the room and they whispered together in perfect synchronization. "They're coming for us. All of them. The Volturi. All of them."

Silence filled the room. Alice was the first to speak. "Why? How?" She whispered to herself.

"When?" Edward whispered.

"Why?" Esme echoed.

"_When?_" Jasper repeated frantically.

Edward and Alice spoke together again. "Not long. There's snow on the forest."

Alice whispered alone, "Snow on the town."

Edward sighed, "Little more than a month."

Carlisle repeated the next most important question for the third time. "Why?"

Esme answered. "They must have a reason. Maybe to see…"

"This isn't about Bella," Alice's voice was haunted. "They're _all_ coming – Aro, Caius, Marcus, every member of the Guard, even the wives."

Carlisle was aghast. The wives never left the tower. Not since Marcus's wife had been killed. "But _why_? We've done nothing! And if we had, what could we possibly do that would bring _this_ down on us?"

"There are so many of us, they must want to make sure that – " Edward didn't finish his thought.

"That doesn't answer the crucial question!" Carlisle demanded.

"Go back, Alice. Look for the trigger," Jasper pleaded.

Alice's shoulders sagged. "It came out of nowhere, Jazz. I was just looking for Irina. She wasn't where I expected her to be…" Her head jerked up. Edward caught his breath. "She decided to go to them. Irina decided to go to the Volturi. She was thinking, 'And they will decide…'" Alice's brow creased. "It's like they're waiting for her, like their decision was already made…"

"Can we stop her?" Jasper asked.

"She's almost there," Alice mumbled.

"What is she doing?" Carlisle gasped.

"Think of what she saw that afternoon," Bella said in a low voice. Carlisle turned and saw her leaning protectively over her sleeping child. "To someone who'd lost a mother because of the immortal children, what would Renesmee look like?"

"An immortal child," Carlisle's whisper caught in his throat and he sat on the sofa putting his head in his hands.

Edward knelt next to his girls and wrapped his arms over both of them. But Bella went on. "She's wrong. Renesmee isn't like those other children. They were frozen, but she grows so much every day. They were out of control, but she never hurts Charlie or even shows him things that would upset him. She _can_ control herself. There would be no reason…"

But there was a reason. Carlisle knew what it was. Edward had predicted it himself. Aro was resolved to have Alice at his right hand and Edward at his left: virtual omniscience. All he needed was an excuse to come and collect them, and the opportunity was about to arrive in Volterra.

Carlisle had a little over a month to find a way to save his family.

Carlisle drove a convertible Mercedes down the two-lane country road outside Lourdes, France. The moonlight above him glanced off the French countryside buildings and highlighted the Chateau de Lourdes in the distance. Esme sat next to him looking over a laminated map of the area.

Their trip so far had been very successful, but Carlisle wanted to try to find the last one on Alice's list. He also had to admit he just really wanted to see this particular vampire.

Esme lifted her finger and pointed to the right, "Turn here, my love." Carlisle smoothly turned the car at a high speed, as if he were on a Formula-1 racetrack. They were moving deeper into the village surrounding the Chateau and Carlisle felt many memories of Europe flood his mind as he looked around at the modern franchise shops filling buildings that were easily as old as Carlisle.

Esme pointed again. "Let's park here and walk. Eleazar said this area was his last known haunt."

Carlisle slid the car to a stop in a parallel parking spot, and then shut down the engine. Because he had announced their arrival to everyone within earshot, if the vampire they sought didn't want to be found, then he would be long gone. Carlisle lifted his nose and took a deep breath. The vampire hadn't left; he was nearby.

Carlisle and Esme got out of the car and walked toward a sidewalk café. They ordered champagne and watched the humans stroll by. After a few minutes Carlisle smiled and put a hand over Esme's, then looked up at the stars. "My friend, please, come and meet my wife."

"What possible reason could you have to seek me out, _animal-feeder_?" a disembodied voice growled from the alley shadows.

"Alistair, have some manners. Come and meet my wife properly," Carlisle chided with a smile.

A whisper of a breeze disturbed their hair and Alistair appeared seated across from them at the café table. "Something serious has happened." His brow was creased but other than that he hadn't changed at all.

Carlisle turned to Esme. "Esme, my love, this is the infamous Alistair."

Esme grinned and nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you finally, Alistair."

Alistair waved his hand at her. "Too pretty, Esme, you are too noticeable. If you need me to help you hide I'm going to have to put a bag over you."

Esme giggled. "I have a feeling that if you plan to hide us anywhere there are females, you will have to do the same with Carlisle."

Alistair narrowed his eyes at Carlisle then glanced back at Esme. "I see your point." He looked back at Carlisle. "Good choice, man. Smart one, she is."

Carlisle chuckled, and Esme squeezed his hand.

"So I heard that you did not heed my warning in Italy and stayed with Aro for a time; but that you also _escaped_ his grasp. Quite impressive for an animal-feeder." Alistair grumbled as his eyes shifted from human to human as they walked by.

"Like you told me in Rome, no one rules either of our fates," Carlisle replied with a grin.

Alistair frowned. "And I also hear that Jane was rather impressed by your _family_, Carlisle," Alistair said while scanning the nearby fountain as if he expected something to emerge from it.

Carlisle sighed. "My friend, the situation has escalated far beyond that, I'm afraid."

Alistair now focused all of his attention on Carlisle. "Yes, I can feel it. Something is changing."

Carlisle frowned. "What do you mean?"

Alistair glanced at Esme and then looked back at Carlisle. "Have you have made another vampire?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No, Edward has changed his mate, Bella."

Alistair's eyes became wider. "Ah, it becomes a bit clearer. She was the human you protected?"

Esme nodded. "Yes, she and Edward are clearly meant to be together."

Alistair looked at Esme again, and his expression was almost sad. "So she was with you, with your family for a long time before she was changed?"

"A few years, yes, why?" Carlisle's brows came together.

Alistair closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then looked back at Carlisle. "Tell me your story first."

They all sat under the stars at the café as the champagne sat un-drunk and Carlisle related the details of the encounter with Irina, Alice's vision and their plan.

"Irina thought you had made an _eternal child_?" Alistair grumbled with disbelief. Then he looked at Carlisle with a hard stare. "And the Volturi are now involved?"

Carlisle sighed and leaned forward onto the table with folded hands. "Yes. We are trying to gather our friends to stand with us and simply force them to hold off on taking any action long enough to see that my granddaughter is not what they think she is. She is something entirely new… and special." Esme reached out and held Carlisle's hand.

Alistair looked away for a moment and pursed his lips. "Carlisle your entire family may be too special for the Volturi to ever ignore. I cannot…"

"Alistair, please, I know you are older than the Volturi. Have you ever seen anything like Renesmee before?" Carlisle urgently asked the question he had wanted most to ask of his friend.

Alistair shook his head again. "No. And vampires who treated human women that way were usually punished."

Carlisle frowned again. "You mean vampires who got human women pregnant," he sighed. "I didn't know to warn them."

Alistair frowned at Carlisle. "No vampires that I am aware of have gotten as close as your family does to humans in five thousand years." Then, suddenly, he closed his eyes for a few seconds and lifted his chin slightly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I am drawn to follow you, Carlisle," Alistair grumbled and folded his arms, looking rather put out.

Carlisle smiled at Esme. "Thank you, Alistair."

Without another word they hurried back to the car and Carlisle brought the engine to life. Alistair looked at Carlisle in the mirror. "Something is different."

Carlisle looked back at Alistair and saw that his friend's brow was slightly creased. "What do you mean?"

"Hmm," Alistair grumbled.

Esme looked over at Carlisle, who appeared troubled by Alistair's statement, but dropped the topic as Alistair did. Carlisle stared straight ahead at the dark road.

In all, the Cullens gathered seventeen witnesses to stand with them, including Alistair, Siobhan, her mate Liam and Maggie; Tanya, Kate, Eleazar and Carmen; Charlotte and Peter, friends of Jasper; nomads Mary, Randall, and Garrett; the Egyptians Amun, Kebi, Benjamin and Tia; the Amazons, Zafrina and Senna; and finally Vladimir and Stephan, the Romanian coven rulers who the Volturi had deposed almost fifteen hundred years before.

The final addition to the talented group was Eleazar's discovery of Bella's hidden talent. The Denali coven and the Amazon vampires helped Bella develop the power that she had always used against Edward's gift without even realizing it. She had a shield which not only protected her mind from vampires as powerful as Aro and Jane, but she could extend it to cover and protect others.

Eleazar walked up next to Carlisle as he stood on the back porch of the house and watched the motley group practicing their gifts against Bella's shield.

"How are you holding up?" Eleazar said quietly.

Carlisle leaned forward onto the railing of the back porch. "I am consumed with Edward's read of Aro's plan." Carlisle closed his eyes. He was so tired. "I would sacrifice myself to keep Aro from possessing Alice and Edward, but I really wish Alice was here."

Eleazar cocked his head to the side. "Alice is following her own destiny, and watching your new daughter perform," he nodded toward Bella, "I'm not certain that we will be taken."

Carlisle sighed. "Thank you for being such a good friend, Eleazar."

Eleazar chuckled. "I told you, I had no choice; you were like a force of nature, Carlisle." Then Eleazar's brow creased. "Have you been feeling all right?"

Carlisle looked over at Eleazar with his brow creased. "A bit stressed obviously, but fine, why?"

Eleazar's brows lifted. "I don't know… never mind." He waved it off and shook his head.

Carlisle frowned, but then stood up again and then walked back toward the house.

"Alistair is faltering," Eleazar called after Carlisle.

Carlisle stopped and nodded. "He may be the wisest of us all if he is pulled away."

Carlisle closed the glass door behind him and then looked up at the ceiling. He could hear Alistair pacing and muttering to himself. He walked up the stairs and into his office where Alistair was wringing his hands.

"What do you want, animal-feeder?" he said testily.

Carlisle closed the door behind him and then spoke so quietly that no one would be able to hear the conversation; even Edward was too far away to eavesdrop. "You never explained to me what you meant when you said, 'something is changing.'"

Alistair stopped and closed his eyes, and then his brow creased and he looked back at Carlisle with a gaze that had seen more years than Carlisle dared to count.

"I have been waiting for you, Carlisle," Alistair's whisper was almost as distant as his eyes. "I could never stop my thirst, but ever since the human population fell, in the time of famine and ice, I have worked to protect humanity from the vampires hunting them to extinction."

Carlisle stared at Alistair, he was older than Carlisle had imagined.

"I have worked from the darkness. I have watched, schemed, manipulated, and even undermined my own kind. I was the one who ensured the Volturi would take power, and I have been watching them, knowing that one day they would go to far and would have to be supplanted again."

Carlisle shook his head. "Alistair, if that is the 'change' you speak of, I will never – "

Alistair cut him off. "But in all of the endless expanse of my existence, I knew there had to be a solution. I knew that it had to change. Something had to shift the winds. You are that gentle breeze, Carlisle."

Carlisle's brow creased. "What do you mean, 'solution'? Is this part of why the Volturi are coming?"

Alistair leaned forward and whispered even more quietly than they had been during this conversation. "They know it too. They knew it the moment I found you. They are coming to destroy _you_ before you change the course of vampire history."

Carlisle frowned. "But, why _now_? Why threaten my granddaughter?"

"Because with your children, you are becoming too powerful. They do not even realize how powerful your family really is. And, they cannot allow you to continue to live so differently, and successfully. For their power to endure, the status quo must be restored. And you are the ultimate game changer. You are changing all of us."

Carlisle sat down and stared at the floor.

"I must leave," Alistair said suddenly, and then he started toward the door.

Carlisle soundlessly speed over to the door and blocked it, pleading, "Wait!" But then he dropped his hands and hung his head. "I would ask why, but I really do not have to know."

Alistair closed his eyes again. "I was drawn here to see Renesmee and Bella, and to tell you exactly what I have just said," he opened his eyes once more. "And now, I am drawn away, some other mystery is pulling me – quite strongly, in fact." He seemed to be fighting an unconscious urge to inch toward the door.

Carlisle sighed, and stepped aside. "I will not disappoint you, my friend."

Alistair's his eyes were pained. "Carlisle, your mere existence has justified millennia of my own insane struggle. You have been my savior in so many ways. Thank you." He frowned, and then looked into Carlisle's eyes again. "I sincerely hope that we will meet again."

Then, a light shift in the air of the room ruffled Carlisle's hair, and Alistair was gone. Eleazar and Edward told the others about Alistair's theory. Carlisle hated that the others thought Alistair was a coward, but he told no one of Alistair's mission, because that was not his secret to tell.

Carlisle stood with his family and watched the entire Guard arrive. The procession of thirty-two walked slowly and with great pomp. They had brought over forty additional witnesses as well, from Europe and beyond. Carlisle recognized many of their faces from his travels in the Old World. Carlisle watched sadly as Irina wandered in between the two companies; she stared with horror as she saw Tanya and Kate on the front line of the condemned.

Edward began to snarl. "Alistair was right," he murmured to Carlisle. "They – Caius and Aro – come to destroy and acquire."

_Son, this is our chance. I know you have questioned whether you are ready for this, but I want you to know I have complete faith in you. No matter what happens to us, they will not achieve their intended ends today. They will not take any of us._ Carlisle thought with complete confidence_. I need to know, have they chosen their targets?_ Carlisle shot a questioning glance at Edward.

"They have many layers of strategy already in place," Edward said almost silently so only the Cullens could hear. "If Irina's accusation had somehow proven to be false, they were committed to find another reason to take offense. But they can see Renesmee now, so they are perfectly sanguine about their course. We could still attempt to defend against their other contrived charges, but first they have to stop, to hear the truth about Renesmee; which they have no intention of doing."

Carlisle looked over at Edward and a burning sensation began to build in his chest. He scanned the lines of Volturi and his eyes narrowed. He thought of every member of his family and all of the other witnesses who were so bravely standing on the side of truth, of all of the lives that hung in the balance; and slowly, the heat began to seep out of him. It was not a wave of power, it was a steady stream flowing off his skin, and within seconds the entire group of Cullen witnesses were standing in an expanding pool. And a mere minute later, that pool was covering the entire clearing. Soon, every vampire present, Volturi, Cullens, and witnesses on either side, were all ankle deep in the largest expanse of Carlisle's power yet, but they were completely unaware. No one could overtly feel its influence; no one could state when its affect gripped them. Just very slowly, subtly, it seeped into each of them.

_I just need a moment, one moment of compassion, let us speak… Stop, hear me speak…_ Carlisle pushed his message outward for anyone listening. And he could feel in the currents at his feet that some were already feeling the effects of his power.

And then, Carlisle heard them coming. The rhythm of the large slow heartbeats of sixteen werewolves the size of horses brought joy and sadness to his cold heart as they padded up behind Carlisle and his family. Suddenly, the Volturi's procession halted. The numbers on the home team had just doubled.

Carlisle looked at Aro and Caius. He could see them scanning the field. And then he saw clear disappointment in Aro's face.

_Alice is not here, Aro, you will not have that particular prize. You will not have any of them_. Carlisle thought angrily. Then he heard Edward's breathing speed up with anger. _Calm down, son, what is it?_ He did not respond. "Edward?"

"They're not sure how to proceed," he sounded surprised, but his teeth clenched. "They're weighing options, choosing key targets – me, of course _YOU_, Eleazar, Tanya. Marcus is reading the strength of our ties to each other, looking for weak points. The Romanians' presence irritates them. They're worried about the faces they don't recognize – Zafrina and Senna in particular – and the wolves, naturally. They've never been outnumbered before. That's what finally stopped them."

Carlisle frowned. "Should I speak?"

Edward's eyes shifted back and forth for a moment, then he nodded. "This is the only chance you'll get."

Carlisle immediately squared his shoulders and took several steps ahead of the defensive line. He saw Edward reach out instinctively toward his father, but he managed to pull his hand back in check. _It will be fine, Edward. They will not try to kill me, yet._

Carlisle's power continued to seep out of his skin and flow down to the unseen gathering pool at his feet. He spread his arms, holding his palms up, the old gesture for Aro to read another vampire's thoughts. "Aro, my old friend. It's been centuries."

Carlisle watched Aro's expressions. First, there was a moment of anger. Next, there was sadness and longing, for days past. Then, there was a flicker of fear, and finally, well-practiced composure as Aro and his shield, Renata, took a step forward.

Aro held up a hand. "Peace." Renata shadowed every move as Aro cocked his head at Carlisle and he walked forward a few more paces. "Fair words, Carlisle. They seem out of place considering the army you've assembled to kill me, and to kill my dear ones." His milky gaze flickered over the bared teeth of the werewolves.

Carlisle shook his head and reached forward with his right hand with the palm still upward as if there were not still almost a hundred yards between them. "You have but to touch my hand to know that was never my intent," Carlisle's soft voice seemed to fill the clearing. Everyone present felt as if they were surrounded by his serene manner and heard very clearly every word he spoke.

Aro's shrewd eyes narrowed. "But how can your intent possibly matter, dear Carlisle, in the face of what you have done?" But then, he frowned, and a shadow of sadness crossed his features again.

Carlisle breathed a tiny sigh of relief. He knew that Aro was being affected by his power no matter how much he tried to hide it. He projected to the entire company of witnesses.

"I have not committed the crime you are here to punish me for." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Irina cringe at his words. Tanya and Kate saw her too and they shifted slightly behind Carlisle.

"Then step aside and let us punish those responsible. Truly, Carlisle, nothing would please me more than to preserve your life today," Aro was now betraying far more emotion than Carlisle thought possible.

Again Carlisle pushed his words outward, but he focused on Aro, holding his gaze. "_No one_ has broken the law, Aro. Let me explain." Carlisle lifted his hand again and for a brief moment dared to hope that the day might be won with only his power and his words and that he could spare the entire family and prevent Aro from touching any of them. But before Aro could answer, Caius swiftly drifted forward to his side. Caius had come too far for their plan to fail, and he would not allow Carlisle to exploit Aro's affection.

"So many pointless rules, so many unnecessary laws you create for yourself, Carlisle," the white-haired ancient sneered. "How is it possible that you defend the breaking of one that truly matters?"

Carlisle kept his eyes on Aro, and his power continued to flow off of him slowly. "The law is not broken. If you would listen – "

"We see the child, Carlisle," Caius snarled. "Do not treat us as fools."

Carlisle continued to hold his hand out toward Aro, and kept his gaze steady. Again he pushed his soft voice outward to the entire crowd. "She is _not_ an immortal. She is _not_ a vampire. I can easily prove this with just a few moments – "

Caius scoffed. "If she is not one of the forbidden, then why have you massed a battalion to protect her?"

"Witnesses, Caius, just as you have brought." Carlisle gestured toward the angry horde at the edge of the woods; some of them growled in response, but some of them shifted their weight as they stood in the gathering pool of his power and merely frowned. Then he gestured to the vampires that stood by him. "Any one of these friends can tell you the truth about the child. Or you could just _look at her_, Caius. See the flush of human blood in her cheeks."

"Artifice!" Caius screeched. "Where is the informer? Let her come forward!"

Irina was prodded from behind by one of the wives' bodyguards and she slowly walked toward Caius in a daze. Her eyes were still locked on her sisters. Tanya and Kate shifted again behind Carlisle_._

Caius impatiently growled and closed the distance between them, then slapped Irina across the face to bring her attention to him. Tanya and Kate hissed in response. Carlisle turned his head toward them and they brought themselves under control immediately. Caius angrily questioned Irina, who began to hesitate because it was clear to her that Renesmee had grown and was not what she had assumed she was.

Carlisle focused his gaze back on Aro the entire time: in Carlisle's eyes there was no anger, no bitterness, just compassion. _You have felt it before, you remember what compassion feels like, you do not have to do this, remember…_

Aro suddenly flitted to Caius's side and put a restraining hand on his shoulder, and Caius's bared teeth instantly disappeared. "Be composed, brother. We have time to sort this out. No need to be hasty." With a sullen expression, Caius turned his back on Irina.

"Now, sweetling," Aro's voice became high and sugary. "Show me what you're trying to say." He held out his hand, and Irina took it with resignation. In five seconds he dropped her hand and turned his back on her. "You see, Caius? It's a simple matter to get what we need."

Aro glanced sideways at his audience of witnesses, now none of them were growling. The rabid mob was sinking deeper into Carlisle's power, and they were now looking for some confirmation from Aro that they were still in the right. But Aro had no assurances to give them.

He turned back to Carlisle. "And so, we have a mystery on our hands, it seems. It would appear the child has grown. Yet Irina's first memory was clearly that of an immortal child. Curious."

One corner of Carlisle's mouth lifted very slightly, as did the tenor of his voice as he pushed it outward once again. "That's exactly what I'm trying to explain." His hope that he could fix this situation alone floated up once again. Carlisle lifted up his hand toward Aro.

Once more, however, Caius interfered. He growled and Aro hesitated for a moment. "I would rather have the explanation from someone more central to the story, my friend. Am I wrong to assume that this breach was not of your making?"

Carlisle instantly knew what Aro's new target was, and for the first time, his anger began to boil. "There was _no_ breach."

"Be that as it may, I will have every facet of the truth." As Aro's feathery voice hardened, and Carlisle's hope sank. "And the best way to get that is to have the evidence directly from your talented son."

_Edward_, Carlisle's thoughts became instantly desperate. _Edward, don't let him hold you for too long, don't let Caius come within ten feet of you, and if you sense they are going to attack just RUN. Use all of your speed and run back to us. Bella will do whatever she must to bring you back within the shield…_

"As the child clings to his newborn mate, I'm assuming Edward is involved," Aro turned his head and smiled at the tall vampire standing at Carlisle's right hand.

_If they attack you, I will come and get you. I will keep you all safe no matter the cost._ Carlisle gritted his teeth.

Edward turned to quickly kiss Bella's forehead and Renesmee's. He did not look Carlisle in the eye as he clapped his father's shoulder as he passed, and Carlisle felt something inside him freeze over with fear as his son walked toward the jaws of the lion. Behind him he heard Esme whimper quietly, and Carlisle's jaw clenched even tighter.

With every step Edward took Carlisle's breath quickened, and his hopes began to drain away and then one driving thought pushed through his mental walls and came crashing down on him, _I failed him_.

Suddenly, Carlisle felt a wave flow over him, and the force of it surprised him. But, as he shifted his eyes back and forth to see where it came from he realized that no one else had sensed it. He could see a radiance was now surrounding them, and it was covering Edward as well, fifty yards away. Then he heard a startled laugh behind him, and Carlisle realized he recognized the cover that now protected him because he had seen it before: it was Bella. When she practiced the shield was virtually invisible even to him, but suddenly her power had exploded, and what he now saw was more like the corona he saw at her rebirth.

Carlisle felt his hope and power surge and it appeared to flow through the shield. The witnesses seemed even less sure of themselves as Edward slowed to a stop just a few steps from Aro. Carlisle heard Bella growl and her shield pulled back slightly so that Edward was now exposed. Carlisle frowned but he knew as well as Bella did that Aro had to see the truth, and she could not interfere.

Edward mimicked his father's posture and held out his hand, arrogantly expecting Aro to close the distance. Aro did so without a moment of hesitation and when he took Edward's hand his eyes snapped shut, and his shoulders hunched at the onslaught of information. Carlisle was fascinated to see the effect of his son's gift on Aro, no one had ever given him too much information at once, but Edward had seen and felt so much in every moment that their first contact must have been even more dramatic. Bella hissed behind Carlisle and Zafrina whispered words of comfort to her.

The communication lasted long enough that Carlisle was certain that not only was Aro reading Edward's thoughts, he was attempting to see the thoughts of every one present. Then Aro straightened up and his eyes flashed open, their expression awed and wary. Carlisle could see that Aro had not released Edward's hand and his body tensed.

"You see?" Edward asked with a calm voice.

Aro smiled. "Yes, I see, indeed. I doubt whether any two among gods or mortals have ever seen quite so clearly." He cocked his head to the side, and his eyes flashed toward Carlisle and back. Carlisle knew Aro was trying to use Edward to read Carlisle, and likely the entire Cullen group, but they were all protected by Bella's shield.

"You have given me much to ponder, young friend. Much more than I expected." Aro's gaze slipped over to Renesmee, and Carlisle suddenly stopped worrying about his son's tense stance, and now his anger grew as he realized Aro had a new target.

"May I meet her? I never dreamed of the existence of such a thing in all my centuries. What an addition to our histories!" Aro said with eager interest. Carlisle frowned sardonically as he wondered how much history was erased when the Volturi took over rule of the vampire world.

"What is this about, Aro?" Caius snapped.

"Something you've never dreamed of, my practical friend. Take a moment to ponder for the justice we intended to deliver no longer applies," Aro said firmly.

Caius hissed in surprise. Aro had distanced himself from Caius, calling him "friend" instead of "brother," and he had ended their call for blood with one statement. "Peace, brother," Aro said soothingly.

He turned back to Edward. "Will you introduce me to your daughter?" Edward negotiated with Aro without words and then Aro responded out loud for the benefit of everyone who could not read minds. "I think a compromise on this one point is certainly acceptable, under the circumstance. We will meet in the middle."

Aro released Edward's hand but put his arm around his shoulders and kept one his hand in contact with Edward's skin, hoping to gain some access to the thoughts of the Cullens as they walked back toward Carlisle. Felix, Demitri and Renata followed to put the Guard at ease.

Edward called out calmly. "Bella, bring Renesmee… and a few friends."

Bella, Renesmee, Emmett and Jacob all walked forward, still under Bella's shield, and met the party from the other side. Carlisle could barely concentrate on the words exchanged; his eyes kept shifting from person to person as he worked to hold his panic in check. Aro had his proof, and he had rejected their plan to attack. He was now stalling, gathering surveillance. Bella's shield was blocking him, so Aro was trying to buy time, and now he was deciding whether or not Renesmee should be disposed of in the ensuing battle…

"But she's exquisite! So like you and Edward," he smiled at Bella sweetly. Then Aro grinned at the little toddler and Carlisle had to clench his teeth again to stop himself from hissing. "Hello, Renesmee."

She looked to Bella for approval and then turned back to the ancient with strange, cloudy eyes. "Hello, Aro," she answered in her high ringing voice. Aro's curiosity was now piqued.

"What is _it_?" Caius hissed.

"Half mortal, half immortal," Aro announced without turning his enthralled gaze from Renesmee. "Conceived so, and carried by this newborn while she was still human."

"Impossible," Caius scoffed.

"Do you think they've fooled me, then, brother?" Aro's expression was amused, but Carlisle could hear the ire in his tone, and Caius flinched. "Is the heartbeat you hear trickery as well?" Carlisle's gaze slide over to Marcus as he realized that this was the biggest crack he had ever seen between the Volturi. As he expected, Marcus was focused on the situation, and did not look at all bored.

"Calmly and carefully, brother," Aro cautioned, still smiling at Renesmee. "So much to learn, so much to learn! I know you don't have my enthusiasm for collecting histories, but be tolerant with me, brother, as I add a chapter that stuns me with it's improbability. We came expecting only justice and the sadness of false friends, but look at what we have gained instead! A new, bright knowledge of ourselves, our possibilities."

He held out his hand to Renesmee, but instead she reached upward to touch her fingertips to Aro's ancient face. Carlisle held his breath as Aro's smile widened, and he sighed with satisfaction. "Brilliant," he whispered.

Then Renesmee released Aro and relaxed back into Bella's arms. "Please?" she underlined the question she had just asked Aro in their silent communication.

Aro's smile softened and his voice became comforting. "Of course, I have no desire to harm your loved ones, precious Renesmee." Maggie hissed behind Carlisle and the company knew that Maggie had revealed the lie.

Aro suddenly seemed interested in the werewolves. "They seem quite attached to you," Aro said to Edward. "And your young mate, and your… family. _Loyal_." His voice caressed the word softly with jealousy.

Edward frowned. "They're committed to protecting human life, Aro. That makes them able to coexist with us, but hardly with you. Unless you're rethinking your lifestyle." Jacob whined and asked a question in his thoughts. Edward murmured back, "He's intrigued with the idea of…guard dogs." The clearing filled with roars of protest, which Sam stopped with a sharp bark of command.

"So much to discuss, so much to decide," Aro's tone had suddenly slipped back into business mode. "If you and your furry protector will excuse me, my dear Cullens, I must confer with my brothers."

Edward started backing up immediately and pulled the group back with him. He smiled tensely at Carlisle as he passed, and Carlisle forced one side of his mouth to turn up in response. _Well done, son. Very well done._

Aro and Caius began arguing at once, and the mob of witnesses whispered to each other as they watched the Volturi unravel before them. Suddenly, Carlisle felt the shield snap back against him and increase in intensity. He was the furthest forward, and Bella seemed to be concerned with securing his position. He shifted back slightly to bring himself closer to the defensive line so that he was standing nearer to Tanya, and he felt the shield move with him. It was a like a warm blanket, hugging his form perfectly. Carlisle smiled to himself; Bella was getting stronger.

Caius tried to turn the focus of the witnesses on the werewolves but Edward easily pointed out that the Quileute were not the same as the Children of the Moon who hunted vampires down in Europe and Asia. Caius had pushed them nearly to extinction with his crusade against them. Edward called what the Quileute had a "genetic skill" – _shape-shifting_.

Once again, Aro pulled Caius back and stopped the argument. "They are creatures of the supernatural world, brother. Perhaps even more dependent on secrecy than we are; they can hardly expose us. Carefully, Caius. Specious allegations get us nowhere."

Carlisle watched with fascination as Caius and Aro exchanged a long, significant glance. Aro was trying to move Caius back to the script, but Caius had only agreed to it because they had never had to use it before. Every encounter they had before resulted in the slaughter Caius craved. Caius was not about to leave disappointed.

"Irina," Caius barked.

She tore her eyes from her sisters again, and jumped as Caius snapped his fingers at her. She moved to stand in front of him. "So you appear to have been quite mistaken in your allegations."

Carlisle felt Tanya and Kate lean forward and he lifted his left hand slightly in warning.

"Dear Caius, could you expect her to have guessed in an instant something so strange and impossible?" Aro asked. "Any of us would have made the same assumption." Carlisle saw straight through the theatrics and knew that the next stage in the plan had been set in motion, but he was failing to see what role Irina was meant to play. His mind raced as Caius continued.

"We all know you made a mistake," he said brusquely. "I meant to speak of your motivations."

Irina stared at Caius. "My motivations?"

Caius leveled her with his gaze. "Yes, for coming to spy on them in the first place." Irina flinched at the word _spy_. Carlisle heard the girls gasp behind him, and his own lips thinned. "You were unhappy with the Cullens, were you not?"

Irina turned her miserable eyes to Carlisle's face. "I was," she admitted. Carlisle frowned and his brow creased.

"Because…?" Caius said impatiently.

"Because the werewolves killed my friend," she whispered. "And the Cullens wouldn't stand aside to let me avenge him."

Carlisle's frozen heart broke in two, because he had allowed such a breach to go unresolved. Suddenly, his lips parted slightly in a silent gasp of pain and his power ceased to flow off of him.

"So the Cullens sided with the shape-shifters against our own kind – against the friend of a friend, even," Caius summarized, as he turned his gaze to Carlisle. But Carlisle was not looking at him, he was still staring in misery at Irina, and struggling with all of his ability to hide the fact that he was barely able to stand. He had a well-practiced method for blocking his thoughts from his son.

Fortunately, Edward was paying too much attention to the Volturi at that particular moment and did not notice Carlisle's rigid stance. He made a disgusted sound as he read the thoughts on the other side of the field.

Irina's shoulders stiffened as she saw the agony in Carlisle's face. "That's how I saw it," she whispered to him, her face showing him her unspoken apology.

Carlisle suddenly felt his strength returning, and his muscles relaxing. He nodded to her in silent acknowledgement of her remorse.

Then Irina's jaw jerked up, and her shoulders squared. "No, I have no complaint against the wolves, or the Cullens. You came here today to destroy an immortal child. No immortal child exists. This was my mistake and I take full responsibility for it. But the Cullens are innocent, and you have no reason to still be here. I'm so sorry," she said to everyone on the opposite side of the field. "There was no crime."

As she was speaking Carlisle saw a flash of metal and he opened his mouth to scream his protest but it was already too late. The Guard had converged and Caius had set Irina's remains on fire before Carlisle's cry left his lips.

"Stop them!" Edward cried out, jumping to grab Tanya's arm as she lurched forward with a maddened cry of pure rage. She tried to shake Edward off but Carlisle was there in an instant and locked his arms around her waist.

"It's too late to help her," Carlisle cried. "Don't give him what he wants!"

Kate was harder to contain. She shocked Rose so violently she crumpled to the ground. Emmett caught Kate's arm and threw her down, but then staggered back as she zapped him and rolled to her feet. Garrett flung himself at her, knocking her down and locked his hands around her, gripping his own wrists as his body was rocked with spasms, but his hold did not break.

Zafrina took her sight, and as Kate's eyes went blank her screams turned to moans of grief, and Tanya too stopped struggling.

"Listen to me, Tanya, Kate," Carlisle said in a low, intense whisper. "Vengeance doesn't help her now. Irina wouldn't want you to waste your lives this way. Think about what you're doing. If you attack them, we all die."

Tanya's tensed shoulders finally hunched with grief, she leaned into Carlisle for support, and Kate was finally still. Carlisle and Garrett consoled the sisters, and in the quiet clearing their sobbing was the only sound.

Carlisle looked up as he kept his arms around Tanya, because now he heard another sound: grumbling. The second strategy, provoke an attack, had failed, and in fact, it had backfired. Aro was now scanning the faces of his witnesses and realized he needed to move on to the next tactic. He turned to the Cullen's witnesses and began to test their loyalty. Amun's loyalty was easily broken. Siobhan's was not. So Aro tried to use his propaganda.

"There is no broken law," Aro said with a meaningful pause. "However, does it follow then that there is no danger? No." He shook his head. "That is a separate issue. This amazing child, we know nothing of what she will become! Her own parents are plagued by fears of her future. We cannot know what she will grow to be." He paused looking first at the Cullens' witnesses, and then at his own. "Only the known is safe. Only the known is tolerable. The unknown is a _vulnerability_."

Carlisle frowned. "You're reaching, Aro," he said bleakly.

Garrett took a step forward, unexpectedly. "I came here at Carlisle's request, as the others, to witness. That is no longer necessary, with regard to the child. But some of us wondered," his eyes flashed to Eleazar's face, "if Carlisle having truth on his side would be enough to stop the so-called justice. Are the Volturi here to protect the safety of our secrecy, or to protect their own power? Did they come to destroy an illegal creation, or a way of life?" Garrett stared down the uncertain hoard. "Are you free to choose your path, or will the Volturi decide how you will live?"

Charles stood close to Makenna near the front of the witnesses. Charles was clearly upset by Garrett's words.

"Do not fear us, friend Charles. No doubt the patriot truly believes what he says," Aro chuckled lightly.

Charles's eyes narrowed. "I know when I am hearing the truth and when I am not."

"Our witness is that the condemned family is innocent. Everything Garrett claimed is the truth," Makenna said. She turned her eyes toward Carlisle and nodded toward him. "We did not come for a fight. We're leaving now." Carlisle nodded in response and looked at Charles with thanks for their support because the entire crowd of witnesses now seemed completely swayed. The other thirty-seven witnesses stayed, but they had no intention of fighting for the Volturi.

Carlisle reassessed the field, however, and even with the assurance that the witnesses would not interfere, he still could not see a way to leave the clearing without the inevitable confrontation.

"Is there no hope, then?" he whispered to his son with resolve.

"There is absolutely hope," Bella replied in a harsh whisper.

Carlisle turned toward her and saw the determination in her face. As Esme stepped forward to hold his hand he looked down at her with a slightly shocked smile of sudden understanding. "Bella and Edward are going to be the leaders of this coven," he said with a strange sense of joy that she could barely comprehend.

She looked up at him with fear in her eyes, "No, Edward and I will never allow Aro to touch you…" she said fiercely, gripping his arm.

He leaned down and rested his head against hers and whispered, "My love, forever."

"Get ready," Bella whispered. "It's starting."

She felt the attack against her shield before they announced their intentions. It was normal procedure for the Volturi to incapacitate those on trial so they could not escape before judgment. Edward heard Jane's thoughts only a moment before she tried to bring Carlisle down. She was particularly eager to deliver Aro's first target and test her gift against his power.

Edward's eyes flashed toward Carlisle but he could not see Carlisle's face and panic stabbed his cold heart. He lurched toward his father. "Carlisle!! Are you all right?" he gasped frantically.

Carlisle turned toward Edward and saw the horror in his eyes. "Yes, why?" Carlisle said reaching out to grasp his son's hand tightly, Esme still held his other arm in a vice-like grip.

"Jane," Edward said with a growl, and then he looked back at Bella.

She smirked with pride, "I am _all_ over this."

Still gripping Carlisle's arm protectively Edward turned toward Jane and bared his teeth at her. Esme stepped in front of her mate and hissed directly at Jane.

The Romanians chuckled with dark anticipation, and Jane screamed with frustration as she failed to penetrate the Cullens' defenses. Carlisle felt the shield pull away from him and push outward to stop any attack from even getting close.

Alec sent his clear mist toward the group to cloud their sight and senses. Suddenly, the wind whipped around them, circling the Cullens, and the ground opened up between the two groups as Benjamin worked to take some of the pressure off of Bella. But the mist skipped over his obstacles and seemed unaffected by the wind. Jane and Alec smiled.

Then, the mist hit the shield, and revealed the full size and obvious strength of Bella's power. The mist rolled over the flat dome, looking for a weakness and failed. The Volturi were shocked and stared at Bella in wonder.

"Well done, Bella!" Benjamin cheered. Bella smiled.

Carlisle watched with a mixture of pride and horror as his company began to divvy up the Volturi. Carlisle turned back to Aro, and he could see Aro knew his tactics were failing. And then Carlisle saw from the corner of his eye Chelsea stamping her feet with frustration as she failed to break the bonds of loyalty among the Cullens. Carlisle frowned as the Volturi made a show of their vote on the fate of the Cullens. Aro was still looking for a way out before he lost any more of his appearance of authority. But Carlisle had no way to help him.

"The child is an unknown quantity. There is no reason to allow such a risk to exist. It must be destroyed, along with all who protect it." Caius smiled in expectation.

"I see no immediate danger. The child is safe enough for now. We can always reevaluate later. Let us leave in peace." Marcus looked through the Cullens, even past Carlisle.

"I must make the deciding vote, it seems," Aro mused.

"Yes!" Edward suddenly hissed. Carlisle glanced over at his son and saw a triumphant, and terrible grin. "Aro?" The tone of victory in his voice rang across the clearing.

Aro hesitated. "You have something further?"

"The danger you foresee from my daughter – this stems entirely form our inability to guess how she will develop?"

"If there was some way to be absolutely sure, then yes, there would be no question to debate."

Edward chuckled exultantly. "Then I do have something more to offer. Why don't you join us, Alice?"

Alice brought with her a witness from the Amazon, a child of the Ticuna legends; a child like Renesmee. She had left the Cullens because she knew that Aro would touch one of them, either Edward or Carlisle, and he would know before they arrived that she was searching for absolute proof of what Renesmee was which might have prompted them to act quickly. The child of the Amazon, Nahuel, was over one hundred and fifty years old, and he had reached maturity at seven years. His appearance was that of a human around the age of twenty-one. He had aged, like Renesmee, at three times the normal rate of a human, and had frozen at the age of human physical maturity as well as mental maturity. He had full respect for the secret, and for the Volturi.

"Brother," Aro said softly to Caius. "There appears to be no danger. This is an unusual development, but I see no threat. These half-vampire children are much like us, it seems."

"And his father – this Joham? The 'scientist' creating an 'super-race'?" Caius said angrily.

Aro looked back at Caius. "Perhaps we should speak with him," Aro agreed. Then he turned to the Guard. "Dear ones, we do not fight today."

Slowly, the Guard straightened up from their fighting stance, and then they began to march away. One by one, the witnesses scattered. Caius and Marcus marched out with the Guard, but Aro and his three personal guardians stayed, and he held out his hands toward Carlisle.

"I'm so glad this could be resolved without violence," Aro said sweetly. "My friend, Carlisle – how pleased I am to call you friend again! I hope there are no bad feelings. I know you understand the strict burden that our duty places on our shoulders."

Carlisle stood mere meters away from Aro and the centuries of animosity flew across that distance. But Carlisle decided that there was more at stake here than his personal feelings toward a tyrant drunk with power and his own megalomanical vision of how to win back Carlisle's affection, or simply repossess what he thought belonged to him. This was the moment where Carlisle knew he had to show everyone present what it meant to have only love in one's heart.

One last time Carlisle allowed his power to expand in a burst. Bella's shield shimmered as his corona passed through their defense and covered the entire clearing. This time, even members of the guard began to look uneasy, and Marcus felt their loyalty waver. Marcus turned and met Carlisle's gaze and he saw for a brief moment a shadow of a smile on the Volturi's face. He looked at each of the Volturi members and was satisfied as he saw on many of their faces questions, and confusion. Carlisle dared to hope for just a moment that he might have brought some good to this situation. Finally, he looked at Aro again. He could see that Aro had the same conflicted look of fear on his face that Carlisle saw for the first time in his apartment in Rome hundreds of years before. But this time Carlisle knew what Aro feared – his own irrelevance, and the effect Carlisle had had upon him most of all.

"Leave in peace, Aro," Carlisle said in a low voice. "Please remember that we still have our anonymity to protect here, and keep your guard from hunting in this region."

"Of course, Carlisle," Aro assured him. "I am sorry to earn your disapproval, my dear friend. Perhaps in time, you will forgive me."

No one but Carlisle and the two other Volturi knew that Aro _never_ asked for forgiveness – _ever_. Carlisle's eye twitched slightly, unsure of what this meant, but he decided to ignore it, for the time being.

"Perhaps," Carlisle said, carefully measuring every word that came out of his mouth, "in time, if you prove a friend to us again."

Aro bowed his head, the picture of remorse, and drifted backward for a moment before he turned around and was the last to disappear into the forest.

Carlisle stood there staring at the edge of the forest even as Alice assured the company of witnesses that the confrontation was over. He could already see in his mind Aro's ire over his defeat. He could feel Aro's fear. Carlisle knew that Aro was still in his future, but he had no idea what that future held.

Edward suddenly broke into his troubled thoughts by throwing his arms around his father and embracing him so tightly that Carlisle smiled. Carlisle noticed that his granddaughter was watching them and smiling back at him from her mother's arms, and many of the other family members were also in similar embraces. For the first time Carlisle's joy over their success overwhelmed his worries. He hugged his son back and laughed out loud.


	26. Chapter 24: 2007

CHAPTER 24

~~2007~~

Carlisle stood at one of the large ceiling-to-floor windows at the back of the house looking out on the setting sun and smiling to himself. There had been light dustings of snow earlier that week but it did not look like Alice was going to get her wish for a perfect white blanket of powder for Renesmee's second Christmas. The first one had been marred with desperation and sadness because it was right before the confrontation with the Volturi. Alice was determined to make sure that the second was perfect, and never to be defeated, she was outside setting up a rented snow machine. Jasper was dutifully helping her and doing a better job than Carlisle at keeping a straight face.

After the confrontation with the Volturi all of the witnesses and friends slowly said their farewells and the family settled into a period of peace. Edward and Bella had deferred their admission to Dartmouth for a year to spend some time with family, especially since Renesmee was still growing so quickly, they didn't want anyone to miss it. It also made things easier for Jacob because he could not leave his father.

Billy Black had taken a bad turn with his diabetes and it had started to affect his eyesight so Carlisle was spending more time with him on getting his glucose under control. Jacob was practically part of the family, but he was busy helping his father, so Jacob would be joining them later that evening.

Carlisle continued to watch Alice and chuckled to himself as she buzzed around the backyard spreading the snow happily over the trees and shrubs, including the trio of enormous outdoor Christmas trees she had decorated.

Rosalie was hard at work on the tree in the foyer, and Emmett was helping but could not tear himself away from the Florida Gator basketball game he had recorded over the weekend while they were hunting. He kept zipping back and forth from the foyer to the TV to catch a play and howling with joy or agony.

"My love, come and help me with these lights, if we don't finish this before Renesmee gets here, Alice will have your head," Esme called out.

Carlisle chuckled and walked back through the main family area, he smiled when Emmett fell to his knees in front of the TV and cried out in agony as Florida fell further behind, and into the formal living room where the piano sat quietly waiting for Edward's return. Alice had already set out a book of Christmas carol music for him.

"She'll have MY head?" Carlisle smiled at Esme.

"Ok, she'll have both our heads, but she'll know who dragged his feet and amused himself by laughing at her spraying snow on the back yard." Esme tiptoed gracefully along the edges of the large windows hanging the lights around the frames high above the main floor.

Carlisle picked up five more boxes of Christmas lights and within seconds had them wound around the banister and hanging from the loft down into the main room. Together they finished Alice's vision for the house, covering every available space they could find with twinkling lights. When Alice walked back inside her eyes were wide with excitement.

"Oh! It's exactly as I had hoped! Thank you, Esme!" She ran to embrace her mother. And when Carlisle cleared his throat she turned toward him and frowned. "Don't think I didn't hear you chuckling while I worked so hard to make Renesmee's Christmas _perfect_."

Carlisle smiled and suppressed another chuckle and Esme grinned at him and stuck out her tongue impishly. Carlisle decided to stay out of their way as they finished the Christmas cookies for Renesmee and Jacob, and retreated to his study. Carlisle scrolled through his digital music until he found the London Symphony live performance of Christmas carols with the Vienna Boys choir and lost himself in a volume of poetry.

Emmett burst in ten minutes later still holding tinsel in one hand and a box of ornaments in the other. "I've got it Carlisle!" He exclaimed with a large grin. "All we have to do is wait until the majority of the day classes are available online, and we can attend the night classes. We don't have to live on campus, we can claim the skin condition and buy a house and black out the windows. We can totally make it work in Gainesville! I'm sure Renee would love to see Renesmee more for a few years!"

Carlisle could not help but be sucked in by Emmett's enthusiasm, and he knew that eventually Emmett would find a way to be a Florida Gator at some point.

"All right son, we'll keep an eye on their scheduling, and see what we can work out," Carlisle said with a smile.

Emmett whooped with his success, and then zipped back down the stairs because he could hear Rosalie grinding her teeth as she waited for the tinsel Emmett was holding.

Carlisle returned to his book, and thirty minutes later he barely heard the tiny steps behind him before she had her little hands wrapped over his eyes. Carlisle laughed. "Merry Christmas, Renesmee."

Renesmee giggled and lifted her hands then jumped up onto his lap and hugged his chest. "Merry Christmas, Grandpa Carlisle."

Carlisle laid his cheek on top of her warm head and listened to her soft heartbeat for a moment, hugging her back. "Where is everyone else?"

Renesmee pointed outside. "Auntie Alice took Grandpa Charlie, Mom, Dad, and everyone else outside to show them the trees. I snuck away because I wanted to see you," she grinned.

Carlisle chuckled. "Well I'm glad you did because I have a special gift for you." Carlisle smiled as he whispered like a conspirator.

"Really!?" Renesmee clapped her hands together and slid off his lap, then hopped up and down.

Carlisle reached into his deep desk drawer and pulled out a package with shining red paper and a red velvet bow. "Oh it's so pretty I don't want to ruin it, Grandpa Carlisle!"

Carlisle laughed. "Don't worry, that's the purpose of wrapping gifts, to enjoy destroying the paper. Go on, open it," he encouraged.

Renesmee smiled and pulled off the bow, then shredded the paper with relish. Inside a red box was a small porcelain doll with bendy arms, a blue dress, and curly caramel hair, just like Renesmee's. She smiled and looked up at Carlisle with dewy eyes.

Carlisle smiled back. "You're growing so fast, I don't know how much longer you will play with dolls, but I don't want you to miss out on the fun of playtime." He put a hand on her cheek. "I know this was a tough year for you, and I'm sorry about that, love. I feel responsible…"

Renesmee stopped him by reaching up and putting her hand on Carlisle's cheek. In his mind she projected for him again one of the first messages she had given him as a baby: all of her memories of his beautiful smiles and gentle embraces, every time he made her feel happy and loved.

Carlisle covered her hand with his and smiled down at his granddaughter. "Thank you," he whispered.

When he started to remove her hand she lifted it back to his cheek and started to project other images she had seen of loving moments she had witnessed between Carlisle and all of the members of the family. There was an image of Carlisle in a cheerful embrace with Rosalie after she had fixed his Mercedes and Rosalie wore a rare, unguarded smile as she hugged him tightly; an image of Emmett glancing back at Carlisle with a loving smile and shaking his head as Carlisle strutted away proudly after he caught one of Emmett's fly balls; an image of Alice tossing food at Carlisle while she was cooking for Renesmee and laughing hysterically at his droll reaction; an image of Jasper jumping up victoriously and slapping Carlisle on the back after he beat Carlisle at chess for the first time; an image of Bella kissing Carlisle's cheek after an evening at the house before they left to go back to their cottage for the night; an image of Edward embracing Carlisle soon after the confrontation with the Volturi with a pained crease in his brows as he held his father tightly and a look of pure joy on Carlisle's face; and finally an image of Carlisle kissing Esme very tenderly on the house balcony just a few nights before when Carlisle thought the rest of the family had been watching TV.

Carlisle was stunned by the images Renesmee had shared with him. Not because they were unbelievable, he was simply amazed at how blessed he was, and did not have all of his wealth of love held up in front of his face very often.

Carlisle took both of Renesmee's hands in his and smiled. "That is the best gift I have ever received. Thank you, Renesmee." She threw her arms around Carlisle again. When she let him go he stood up and put her down on the ground. "My word, you are at least an inch taller than when I saw you two nights ago…" He started to reach for the measuring tape but Renesmee rolled her eyes.

"Come _on_, Grandpa Carlisle, we're going to miss all the _fun_!" She ran for the door but turned back to wait for him.

Carlisle chuckled and then closed the drawer, but suddenly he felt the room spin, and he put a hand on his desk to steady himself. He quickly glanced toward Renesmee, but she had not noticed anything was wrong.

"Come on, Grandpa Carlisle! Hurry up!" she called and then disappeared as she ran down the stairs.

She had seen him falter, he was sure of it, but her innocent mind apparently did not realize what she had seen. It was the worst incident he's had all year. After the stress of the Volturi confrontation the spells ceased for a few months. He knew he had over exerted himself pushing his power out to the entire clearing for such an extended amount of time. As he relaxed with his family his body seemed to recover.

But then, in March his vision had blurred for several seconds, and now the dizziness was back. Carlisle lifted up his hand from the desk and found he had made a dent in the wood with the heel of his hand. Carlisle cursed quietly; he was going to have to be twice as careful. His indestructible body was going to cause some damage if he could not control the spells.

Carlisle took a cleansing breath, and quickly rid his mind of his shocked thoughts. He could not be reminiscing on the few other times this had happened around Edward. Edward would instantly alert the family, and interrogate Carlisle on a subject he was not ready to discuss. He had to keep this from them, for just a little while. He had to find some answers.

Carlisle stood up straight as he heard the family approaching the house and Renesmee threw open the sliding glass doors and squealed in delight for Alice's efforts in the back yard.

Then suddenly, the doorbell rang. Carlisle's brow creased and he flew downstairs. He was certain it was a vampire before he opened the front door.

When the door swung open there was a young male standing there. His clothes were worn and he was unkempt, but most importantly his eyes were black. He had a look of desperation, and he wrung his hands together.

"Carlisle Cullen, sir?"

Carlisle nodded, "May I help you?"

The vampire paused, considering his words carefully. "I need your help. I was there, the day of the confrontation with the Volturi. I don't want to feed on… _humans_ anymore."

~~2058~~

Esme's fingers jumped across the keys of Edward's piano striking the cords as Carlisle skipped his bow over the strings. The lively piece was a gift from Edward; he had composed it as part of his senior project in his music program. Esme had recently sought lessons from Edward and now she and Carlisle were a regular duet. They were planning to play the piece for Edward and the rest of the family because they were all home in Rochester, Minnesota on Spring Break and the Denali coven had been visiting since February because they brought with them the first vampire to leave the Volturi Guard.

Zivon was Demitri's younger brother. Aro had a habit of changing entire families if one child seemed talented, as he did with Jane and Alec's family. He would simply turn away or destroy any family members who were not any use to him. Zivon was less powerful, he could mildly control a vampire's thoughts and actions, but when Aro found Jane and Alec he preferred their direct submission tactics to Zivon's subtle gift. His physical prowess saved his position in the brute force of the Guard, but at the confrontation with the Cullens his long buried compassionate tendency was unearthed and he was upset about the destruction of Irina. He finally contacted Eleazar, and the Denali coven went to Volterra personally to talk to him. They brought him directly to Carlisle and Esme and his education had been a complete success. He had never been happier.

Half way through the duet practice session, the front door suddenly opened and Edward walked in with Bella, Carmen and Eleazar.

"Sorry to interrupt, it sounded amazing, but Carmen and Eleazar have a stroke of genius that I really think you should hear," Edward said with enthusiasm from the foyer.

Carlisle laid his violin on the piano and turned to see Edward and the others walk into the living room.

Carmen smiled at Carlisle. "Eleazar and I are talking about moving back to Spain. We want to act as liaisons to Volterra for the Cullen family."

Carlisle lifted his brows. "What made you think of this?"

Carmen continued. "When we were in Volterra we got the distinct impression that there were several others, possibly even higher ranking than Zivon, who also wanted to leave. No one else approached us, and Zivon would not divulge names, but we do not want any of them to feel they have lost their chance permanently. We must help them, we must have a presence in the Old World."

Eleazar put an arm around his passionate partner. "In my many, many travels across Europe I have met others who I know would be interested in hearing from me about you and what I have seen. I knew more of the Volturi witnesses that were present than you did, Carlisle, and I know others who would have heard from those witnesses by now. There are many in Europe who we can help, not just members of the Guard."

Carlisle nodded. "I want to help anyone we can."

Esme agreed. "In talking with Zivon about his experiences I'm starting to believe that even some like Jane might be saved."

Eleazar smiled. "Yes, if she wished it she is not beyond help. Her power is not to _only_ to cause pain. She stimulates the feeling of pain within the minds of her victims so you believe and feel it even to the point where you can be locked up in pain forever, should she wish it. She can't control conscious thought, but she can stimulate other sensations of vampires. For example," Eleazar lifted his right hand toward the group and using a small sample of Jane's power suddenly every vampire in the room was overcome with a feeling of intense thirst, and Carlisle realized that Jacob and Renesmee were approaching the house because he was suddenly hyper-aware of any being with blood nearby. Then just as suddenly, the thirst disappeared as Eleazar dropped his hand.

"My apologies, it was the first sensation I thought of," Eleazar grinned.

Carlisle blinked. "That is amazing."

Edward glanced from Eleazar and Carmen to Carlisle, and he smiled at his father. "I think they should go."

Carlisle smiled back at his son. He saw in his son's eyes how much he was starting to believe in the new mission of the family, and now he was slowly stepping into a role of leadership. But, he was still seeking Carlisle's approval for every step they took.

Suddenly, Carlisle frowned. "What about Tanya? You didn't mention her, is she going with you?"

Carmen, Esme and Bella smiled at each other. Bella was the one who replied. "She won't be going, but she won't be alone for very long."

Carlisle was confused for a moment, but then he nodded with understanding. "Zivon."

Bella nodded and giggled. "He had some minor feelings for Irina, mostly he felt sympathy for her regarding how she was treated by the Volturi. But he has been completely drawn to Tanya since he met her with Carmen and Eleazar. And, he doesn't realize it, but he has been unconsciously pulling Tanya in and breaking down her emotional walls with his powers. She is completely enraptured by him."

All of the women sighed with longing for the early days of a blossoming romance, and Carlisle smiled as he thought of how much he seemed to miss when he was not paying attention.

"Carlisle, there is something else, unrelated, that we should discuss while we are home," Bella continued. "We've been talking to Alice, Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett for a while now about… taking a break from school."

Carlisle was again, surprised. "Really? I thought Emmett wanted to go back to University of Florida again in the next cycle."

Bella's laugh rang through the house. "Yes, well, he has talked about it. But I think if you buy him a Bull Gator box so he can see as many football games as he wishes, he will be content." Then she sighed. "We all really want to spend a little time in the _adult_ world."

Carlisle glanced at Esme, and then turned back to Bella and smiled. "What do you plan to do?"

Bella shrugged. "Well, we all have ideas. Alice and Jasper have realized how much they enjoy working with Esme to rehabilitated vampires who have been emotionally damaged. Rosalie still wants her own children and working with Emmett on his youth baseball leagues makes her happy. And I want to apply for a PhD in genetics."

Carlisle grinned broadly. "Planning to study interspecies procreation?"

Bella shrugged and ducked her head while smiling. If she were still human she would have blushed. "Maybe even take a semester to visit Nahuel, follow the footsteps of Joham…"

Carlisle could see how much Bella had matured even as he could still see the shadow of the insecure human teenager she once was. He knew that this new direction for his children had started with Bella, and he wondered if his original children even realized how much they had matured with her and gravitated toward her. Carlisle even found himself thinking about clearing his schedule so he could participate in her new chosen career path and study Renesmee's conception.

Edward put his arm around Bella. "And I will be continuing with my musical studies so I can follow wherever Bella needs to go. We both want to see what we can discover with further research."

Carlisle smiled as he looked ahead to the future of their partnership, and he nodded. "I will let my colleagues at Mayo know you will be applying to their program. And I look forward to the day you come back. I'm sure Esme will have fun looking for a house for you."

Renesmee walked into the living room and everyone turned toward her. "Did I hear you say that we are moving back here soon?" she whispered hopefully.

Everyone turned back to Carlisle and he nodded to his granddaughter. "It looks like the Denali coven may be scattering, but we will be working together more as a family."

Renesmee ran over to her parents and kissed each of them, and hugged Carmen, Eleazar and Esme, then she finally hugged Carlisle, curling her fingers into his shirt and gripping it tightly as she held on to him and rested her head against his chest.

Bella smiled. "Well, with Renesmee's approval I think we have a lot of planning to do!" She turned to Carmen and Eleazar and they immediately started discussing how quickly they could move. Jacob had just arrived behind Renesmee and was munching on a sandwich he found in the refrigerator, so Edward and Esme went over to fill him in on the entire discussion.

Carlisle watched them leave and would have followed but Renesmee was still clinging to him. He looked down at her and was surprised to see tears in her eyes. She was looking at him with a sadness that he had seen in her face before. The first time he saw it was the day of Charlie's funeral, and he had assumed that it was due to her grief over losing her other grandfather.

Renesmee sighed. "I'm glad I'll get to spend as much time as I can with you," she whispered. Then she released her hold on his shirt, turned sadly away and followed Edward, Esme and Jacob.

Carlisle stood frozen and his eyes were wide with horror. The sadness he had just seen was from her fear of losing her _remaining_ grandfather. He now knew that on some level she had remembered and realized what she had seen back on Christmas day over fifty years before.

Over the decades since then, his spells continued to decrease in frequency, but he still had several each decade. In the last few years, however, as the number of guests seeking help with switching to animal blood had escalated, the frequency was increasing again, and his senses were very slowly fading.

In that moment, Carlisle decided to rededicate himself to working on his theory about what was happening. He wanted to talk to Esme, but he would wait until he could give her a full explanation. He resolved, however, not to tell the children. They were moving in such a positive direction that he did not want to do anything that would stop their pursuits because he knew they would drop everything and _obsess_ over finding a way to save him; especially Edward. And Carlisle knew in his heart, that if he was right, what was happening to him could not be stopped.

~~2070~~

Carlisle walked toward his Mercedes SX1000. The lean flowing lines shimmered even under the fluorescent lights of the garage at the Mayo Clinic. Carlisle had finished his evening shift and was leaving to be with Esme for a romantic day together. Their most recent visitors who were seeking advice on living without human blood had gone out on their own successfully the day before, so Carlisle and Esme were alone just in time for their one-hundred-and-forty-fifth anniversary. Bella was still working in the genetics lab so she would drive home separately. Carlisle had ordered roses for Esme, one for every year of their marriage. He smiled to himself as he pictured the scene as he carried all of the roses inside in his arms.

When Carlisle pressed his thumb onto the touch pad the driver-side door unlocked, but then a strange sensation came over him. The garage lights suddenly became dim and he looked up thinking that the power in the parking garage was failing, but as he lifted his chin he started to lose his orientation to which way was up.

Carlisle tried to grip the handle but he lost his grasp on the door. His center of gravity shifted as his head spun and suddenly he realized he was falling. Desperately he tried to get his bearings so he could catch himself and prevent his body from cracking the concrete floor of the garage. This was the worst spell he had ever experienced, and for the first time in centuries Carlisle felt an element of uncontrolled panic enter his mind.

And then, someone caught him and steadied him at the last moment. Carlisle gripped the arm of the person who had caught him and hung on desperately. He turned his head and tried to focus his eyes on the person who had saved him, but he could not force his eyes to stay on the face before him. "Who… _who_ is there??"

"Easy, my friend. It seems that today I repay my debt to you, and make my penance for deserting your family." The deep voice was familiar. Carlisle took a cursory sniff and instantly knew whom it was.

"Alistair! Oh God, thank you. Thank you!" Carlisle was so relieved his voice betrayed his emotion, and he embraced his friend, his head resting against Alistair's chest.

Alistair allowed the emotional reunion because he was feeling deep regret for his actions nearly seventy years prior, but he could only stand brief physical contact.

"Come now, I can't work this contraption you drive, you have to collect your senses, Carlisle." Alistair swung the door open and sat Carlisle up in the driver's seat.

Carlisle felt his orientation returning as he leaned his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes.

"Alistair, what brought you here?" Carlisle was completely at a loss.

Alistair sighed, "You, Carlisle. I was drawn here by you."

Carlisle opened his eyes and turned toward Alistair, who was now seated in the passenger seat. "I'm always at a loss to understand the meaning of your statements."

Alistair shrugged. "When did I ever know why I am drawn to or away from some place? All I know so far is I arrived in Minnesota, and I knew almost immediately that I had to find you. The moment I found you, you fell to the ground and I barely caught you." Alistair chuckled, "It reminded me of the moment I arrived in Rome, when you arrived just in time to save me."

Carlisle's brow creased as he began to fully comprehend what had just happened. Carlisle believed that Alistair was more ruled by destiny and the will of God than anyone else that Carlisle had ever met. Carlisle looked into Alistair's eyes and saw a calm in them that he had never seen before.

"Alistair, you have been pulled here to tell me something again, haven't you?"

Alistair smiled. It was one of the most genuine smiles Carlisle had ever seen on his face. "What Didyme started, you have finished, Carlisle. Part of the reason why I pushed the Volturi to overthrow the other covens was because of Didyme's power of love and what I already felt she had done to change Marcus, who was the leader of the Volturi at the time. I hoped that she would have a similar influence on her brother, because I knew Aro could be a problem. And Caius, I assumed, would eventually leave because I knew he would never change. But all of my grand plans for the Volturi fell apart when Aro killed Didyme and took over as Volturi leader. I despaired at what I had done. It's too late for Marcus to escape, but because of you the rest of the Volturi will now be able to make the choice themselves. Things are _changing_."

Carlisle nodded and smiled, but his smile faded as he saw a sadness overtake Alistair's features.

"There is more, isn't there?" Carlisle whispered.

"I can feel it. You are… diminished," Alistair frowned. Carlisle looked away from Alistair as he continued. "Looking back, I recall that I actually felt it when you found me in France."

Carlisle still did not respond.

"And, I think I know why I was pulled away when the Volturi came to confront you."

Carlisle turned back to Alistair and saw him frown, remembering that day.

"After I left you, I thought I was the lowest coward in existence. I count you among the few vampires in my entire life that I could stand to be around, and you are the only one of them still alive. I was ashamed that I would give you and your family up so easily.

"I was drawn back to England for the first time in centuries, and I wallowed in my own self-pity. But soon after I returned I was in London and wandering the streets, and I realized I was standing at the riverbank.

"Suddenly, a vampire approached me. 'Were you transformed here?' he asked.

"I said, 'No, who are you?'

"'My name is Arthur. The vampire who transformed me lived here.'"

Carlisle was now sitting up and stared unblinking at Alistair.

"I don't usually suffer strangers, but for some reason he made me feel more at ease. And I think he felt the same way talking to me. He had that look I have seen so many times: the look of a vampire who is thirsty and doesn't want to feed. But we didn't talk about blood.

"Eventually he left and said, 'It was lovely to talk with you, Alistair. Farewell.'"

Carlisle blinked. "And, did he… look well?"

Alistair nodded. "He looked perfectly well."

Carlisle bowed his head slightly. Arthur was the same age as Carlisle, and had been changed by the same vampire under the same circumstances. The major difference between them was obvious.

With eyes full of pain he met Alistair's gaze again. Alistair appeared to understand, and there was already a profound sadness darkening the light in Alistair's deep red eyes.

"Have you ever known a vampire who died naturally?" Carlisle asked quietly.

Alistair nodded. "Only my friend, Aldrich."

"Who was he?" Carlisle asked.

"The first leader of the Germanic covens. He stopped moving, and spoke only with his mind. Finally, he turned to stone. He was the only one I have ever seen meet a natural end in thousands of years."

Carlisle shook his head. "But that isn't exactly like what I am going through."

Alistair nodded. "Yes, but you are nothing like any other vampire I have ever seen before. Nothing like anything any of us have ever seen before." Alistair looked out through the windshield of the car and looked back through millennia. "I became a vampire because I feared death. I suppose, the only reason I have outlasted them all is because I keep moving, but at what cost of lives," his voice broke and he closed his eyes.

Carlisle's natural curiosity and eternal quest for information should have made him ask at that moment how old Alistair was. But then he realized that in the end, it didn't really matter. Carlisle could see what living alone for thousands of years did to a person: it made them mad like Aro, or it made them despondent, like Alistair. Carlisle wondered how God was able to endure an existence since time began.

Carlisle's brow creased again as he thought about time, and he looked down at his hands and flexed his fingers. He looked up at Alistair.

"How much time do I have?"

Alistair shrugged. "If I knew the answer to that I would be your God, wouldn't I?"

Carlisle did a double-take, and then shook his head and chuckled uncertainly.

"I don't know if using your powers drained your already weakening body, or if the power has given you strength your whole life and both are now diminishing. You were such a strong animal-feeder, I wonder if you would have lasted even longer if…" Alistair shook his head.

Carlisle stopped him from completing his thought by putting a hand on Alistair's shoulder. "I think it is both. Do not trouble yourself with such questions," he sighed. "Will you come and say hello to Esme? She will be sad that she missed you."

Alistair shook his head and seemed overcome with emotion. "No, I think that it's best that you are the one to tell her all of this."

Carlisle lifted a brow. "Alistair, will you be all right?"

Alistair was now laughing out loud, and that was a sound that Carlisle had never heard. "Diminished as you are, I still felt your compassion when you said that, Carlisle." Alistair looked up and closed his eyes. "I can already feel the pull on me decreasing." Alistair turned toward Carlisle and smiled, "I think I will find a place where I can go and be still for a bit. Maybe, later on, I will tell stories of my friend Carlisle." And then, he opened the passenger door and closed it behind him. He appeared at Carlisle's window a split second later and tapped on the window, and Carlisle lowered it. "Tell the Cullen family I am sorry I left, but that I was pulled away… for a reason."

Carlisle nodded and smiled. "Of course."

Alistair nodded back. "Farewell, Carlisle."

Carlisle smiled again, and felt his throat close up slightly. "Farewell, my friend."

And then, Alistair was gone. Carlisle blinked a few times to reassure himself that he was completely recovered, and then he started the car. The quiet electric motor whined to life and Carlisle backed out of his parking space and started the drive home.

Carlisle stopped at the florist and they filled his car with roses. He watched them put the boxes of flowers in the trunk and could not help but feel a strange sadness seeping into his heart. He began to wonder how bad things had become, how many more years he would have with Esme, and all of the rest of his family.

"What is the significance of one hundred and forty-five?" asked the shop owner with a cheerful smile.

Carlisle smiled sadly and gave his usual answer. "I asked her one hundred and forty-five times before she said yes."

The shop owner grinned. "That's one I've never heard before."

_It will be 'one hundred and forty-six times before she said yes' next year_, Carlisle thought to himself, and then he prayed there would be a next year.

Carlisle pulled up to the large duplex that he and Esme shared with Edward and Bella. Rosalie and Emmett were visiting Carmen and Eleazar in Spain, and Alice and Jasper had their own house two miles away. The large common garage for the duplex held three of the six family cars and Carlisle pulled in next to Edward's favorite motorcycle.

Carlisle got out of his car and assessed his balance and energy. He felt fine. He left his briefcase on the passenger seat and opened the trunk. A few minutes later with his arms full of roses, Carlisle walked up the stairs to the main hall of the house.

"We're in the kitchen!" Esme called. One sniff told him that the "we" included Alice. He immediately became concerned that she knew something.

When Carlisle walked into the kitchen, however, they both squealed with delight and greeted him with a kiss on each of his cheeks. Carlisle smiled and carefully laid out the dozens of roses on the kitchen countertop.

"Always lovely to see you, Alice. What are you up to today?"

Alice went to the cabinets and started pulling out crystal vases and filling them with water.

"Don't worry, I'm not staying long. I'm waiting for Bella, and she will be home soon so you'll get plenty of time alone, you lovebirds." She smiled back. Carlisle nodded and also noted that there was no trace of concern behind her smile.

Esme put a hand on his shoulder and Carlisle started slightly. "Carlisle… is that… _Alistair_ I smell?"

Carlisle chuckled as he regained his composure, and he nodded. "Yes, he came to see me today."

"You're kidding!" Esme's eyes were wide with shock.

Carlisle shook his head and slid his hands into his pockets and leaned against the cabinets. "No, he surprised me in the parking garage as I was leaving the hospital."

Alice was now looking intrigued at Carlisle. "What did he say?"

"That he was sorry he left us before the Volturi came," Carlisle said putting an arm around Esme.

Alice seemed a little apprehensive. "Is that all?"

"He said to tell all of you he was pulled away for a reason, but – he would not tell me what it was. He said that would have to be enough explanation for now." Carlisle turned to kiss Esme on top of her head.

Alice nodded and frowned, but Carlisle knew that no decisions had been made and no paths had changed with Alistair's visit, so Alice would not see any changes in the currents she felt that might lead her to see anything new in his future. In fact, all that had transpired was that Alistair had helped Carlisle realize what path he was already on. Long before Alistair arrived Carlisle had already planned to tell Esme his theory about what was happening to him that evening when they were finally alone. It was going to be an unhappy anniversary, but he knew she deserved to hear it from him first.

Once all of the roses were sorted, Carlisle went back to the garage to retrieve his briefcase and walked slowly up the stairs to his office. He shut the door behind him and put down his briefcase and looked out the window at the city. Then he lifted his eyes toward the stars. Even in a larger city like Rochester, Carlisle could see past the obscuring man-made lights all the way up to the billions of stars in the Milky Way. Alistair believed that the stars held his fate. Whatever ancient tradition he came from told him that the universe and its heavenly bodies were the rulers of events on earth, including life and death.

Carlisle did not believe the stars ruled his destiny. He walked over to the corner of his office and put a hand on his father's cross.

_I just need a few more years_, he promised God.

He was still standing next to his father's cross when there was a soft knock on the door and Esme entered. Bella and Alice had just left, and Esme walked over to her husband and pulled him close to her. She looked up at him and before he could speak she put a finger to his lips.

"Are you finally ready to talk to me?" she said without any anger or reproach, only love.

Carlisle felt his lips tremble and he broke down under the weight of the secret he had forced himself to keep for so long. She threw her arms around his neck as he sobbed and he bent down and hugged her around her torso so tightly she gasped.

For the first time he admitted to himself that he was truly _afraid_. He had not felt fear this powerful since he was a human. He had been afraid of Esme's reaction for years, but she alleviated that concern. And now, he felt the full force of his anxiety of what was happening to him. But with Esme holding him, whispering softly that they would face the problem together, he began to feel it was going to be all right, and he wished he had not waited so long.

They held each other until Carlisle regained his composure, and finally he let her go so he could look her into her eyes again.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice marred by emotion, as he caressed her face.

Esme shook her head. "For what, my love?"

He frowned again as his brows creased. "I promised you 'forever,' and I do not think I will be able to give it to you."


	27. Chapter 25: 2113

CHAPTER 25

~~2113~~

"Carlisle, we have another visitor," Edward called up the stairs.

_Fascinating. I wonder how they know we have returned to Forks?_ Carlisle thought to himself in his study. Lately, it seemed that their movements were fairly well known to most of the vampires on the continent.

Since the confrontation with the Volturi, they had several visitors each year. Many had been present at the standoff, but over the last thirty years others who had only heard of the stories were arriving on the Cullen's doorstep.

All of the Cullens were helping in some capacity, and everyone but Esme was still keeping up a profession in the human world as well. Esme maintained some of her charitable work, but her primary job was coordination of the rehabilitation and communication between their friends around the world.

Carlisle descended the stairs of the newly renovated Cullen family home. Esme had added a large guesthouse with room for up to six guests that was connected to the main level by a covered walkway. The second improvement was a new liquid crystal glass enclosed level on the top of the main house where the family could watch the sun, moon and stars under cover or outside on a large sundeck. Carlisle had recently told Esme of the sunbathed gardens in Volterra where he would sit and read, and she wanted a place in their home with enough privacy screening to prevent exposure, and a sanctuary where they could be alone. In addition, spending time in the sun seemed to alleviate some of his fatigue.

Carlisle patted Edward on the shoulder when he got to the front door and was completely surprised to see Eleazar standing there with Carmen, Tanya and Zivon. Carlisle laughed out loud, and embraced his old friend.

"Why did you not tell me…?"

They all laughed, but Eleazar was the loudest as he squeezed Carlisle tightly. "I think that would have ruined Alice's plans for a _surprise_."

Alice ran up behind Carlisle. "Happy early birthday, Dad," she giggled.

"Alice, you have out done yourself," Carlisle nudged her chin with his finger affectionately.

Carmen hugged Carlisle next. "Arthur could not make it, his coven is busy training vampires in the forests outside London, but he promised to come back to see you next year." She smiled sadly because she could see Carlisle's disappointment.

Tanya kissed Carlisle on the cheek. "Instead, we have one more new addition."

Carlisle turned his attention back to the door and Zivon smiled as he stepped aside and waved forward a new vampire and put a hand on the newcomer's shoulder.

"This is our new friend, Timir; he came to us from India because he wanted to meet you," Zivon said cordially.

Carlisle smiled warmly. "Timir, welcome to our home."

The lean and tall vampire bowed slightly. "Dr. Cullen, it is an honor to meet you."

Carlisle looked toward Edward. _How is his mental state? He looks a bit twitchy, like he's malnourished._

Edward glanced at Carlisle and nodded. "Timir, why don't we take you hunting, and then we can continue our conversation?"

"Yes, yes, it has been difficult for me to gauge how often I need to hunt so I don't feed on humans," Timir looked troubled.

Edward put a hand on their visitor's shoulder. "We will help you with all of that. Let's go take care of your thirst."

Carlisle stood on the balcony and watched the entire group leave.

"Where did Dad go?" Renesmee joined her grandfather, munching on a peanut butter sandwich.

"Our new visitor is in a bad state. He'll be much more focused when they return." Carlisle had seen vampires in worse condition, but Timir was definitely suffering.

Renesmee nodded and looked up at Carlisle. "Are you happy to be _home_, Grandpa?"

Carlisle smiled. "Every time we leave Forks I count the years until we return." He took a deep breath of the crisp sea air and then turned back to his granddaughter and put his left arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer and kissing her lightly on the forehead.

Renesmee put an ear to his chest. "Breathe out again?"

Carlisle looked down at her and frowned but did as she asked.

"Has your lung capacity decreased again?" she whispered.

Carlisle lowered his voice. "Renesmee, we should do this later…"

Renesmee crossed her arms and frowned at him, "This was the only reason I agreed: you promised Esme that you would let me help monitor you." Then she lifted her watch and said, "Deep breath, and exhale, now."

Carlisle took in as much air as he could, and she timed how long it took him to exhale all of the air he could push out. When he finished, he already knew the result.

"You have lost another five percent, I don't like this," Renesmee's brows came together.

Carlisle put a hand on her shoulder again. "I am still more than able to work, as long as my reflexes are superior to humans, I can still do some good."

Renesmee did not look convinced. "This still feels like your nervous system control could be declining faster than we expected. I want to do another cognitive test on you after everyone leaves."

Carlisle nodded. "Agreed."

"And once we reach the threshold –" she continued.

"—We will tell the family," he finished her sentence and looked out toward the forest.

Renesmee could see that he was acquiescent, and she frowned again. It was almost as if she wanted him to be more combative, but she knew as well as he did that their research together had shown there was nothing they could do to fix his failing nervous system. Eventually, that system would fail starting with his peripheral nerves and moving centrally to his brain. Once his nerve control failed, he would probably have a little time of conscious thought but be unable to move voluntarily and venom production would cease entirely. The remaining venom that allowed his cells to shift around each other would become static and also quickly desiccate until he froze completely into a diamond hard statue.

Even though Renesmee had helped with the work that led to the development of Carlisle's theory on the manner of his death, she still closed her eyes against the images filling her mind. Then she laid her head against his chest and curled her fingers into his shirt as she hugged him closely.

Carlisle looked up suddenly as he heard a car approach. He smiled broadly down at his granddaughter, and they walked through the house to the front door just as they heard the engine of a Jeep Wrangler being cut off, and Kate and Garrett were already standing in front of the door before it had swung open.

"Carlisle!" they said in unison.

"My God, you look like your mother, Renesmee!" Kate said as she hugged her.

"She looks more like her father!" Bella laughed as she walked in from the kitchen and hugged them both. "It's great to see you both. What brought you this way? Last we heard you were in China!"

"We were, but we were also wondering if our last recruit from India made it here. And, I can sense him already," Kate said brightly.

Garrett smiled. "We also came back to meet with some of the first nomads we talked to after Irina's death, and speak to their new recruits."

"Everywhere we go everyone keeps asking about Carlisle. Word has spread really quickly," Kate smiled. "We've been to nearly every corner of the globe in the last century."

Garrett turned back to Carlisle. "But then Kate reminded me it's the old man's 470th, and we were on the continent, so we made our way back." He punched Carlisle's shoulder playfully. "Because you must be having a party, right, Alice?" Garrett smiled up at top of the stairs.

Alice was dancing down the stairs with Jasper and smiled sweetly when they all turned toward her. "Of course! And it will be a great FAMILY party!"

"I would be fascinated to hear about what you have learned about vampires in your travels," Carlisle said.

"The most striking thing we have found among the thousands we have talked with is the overwhelming desire among vampires for better connection and cooperation. They want what we have: _family_." Kate looked at Garrett who smiled and squeezed her hand.

Kate and Garrett toured the new parts of the house with Carlisle and Esme and when the hunting party returned they were up on the sundeck under the stars. There were many exchanged embraces.

"Timir, I would introduce you but apparently you know Kate and Garrett already. They seem to be responsible for bringing everyone to us." Carlisle smiled and turned back to the two nomads.

"No, Carlisle, you are the one responsible for your own fame. We have merely made sure everyone who wants to live like you knows about the life you created," Kate responded.

Eleazar nodded to Kate and Garrett. "Things are going amazingly well over in Europe too. They are learning how to live like us and are passing it on."

Esme nodded. "Emmett and Rosalie spent some time in Australia and we have new contacts over there as well."

"Vampires around the world know your story. And they should know they can have a better life. We're starting a _revolution_!" Garrett laughed out loud, lifting his fist as if he was holding a revolutionary war saber and charging across a muddy field.

Emmett and Rosalie were the last to arrive home from their daily routine in the human world, and they spent the entire evening together on the sundeck, watching the waning moon, winking stars, and listening to Timir's story.

His was like many of the stories they had heard. He had entered into the change without a full understanding of the toll it would take on his conscience. He was only sixty-eight years old and he had been depressed for more than half of his existence. They all listened intently. When he finished his tale, he fell silent and looked around himself at the gathered family in awe.

"I have never felt so surrounded by… compassion," Timit said quietly, and gratefully.

Carlisle put his hand on his chest. It wasn't until that moment that he realized that the warmth in his core that he so often took for granted seemed slightly cool. Eleazar turned his head, but he wasn't looking at Carlisle. He was looking at Bella, who was stroking Renesmee's hair as her daughter slept with her head on Bella's lap.

On Carlisle's birthday the sun rose on another cloudy day in Forks, but the tone inside the house could not have been brighter. Alice and Esme were hard at work with the preparations and were cheerfully putting the other girls to work on the decorations and cake.

Eleazar pulled Edward, Emmett, Jasper, and Timir away from the television and over to the corner where Carlisle was reading a medical journal. He spoke in a low whisper.

"We must plan our escape now, or else we will be up to our necks in streamers and balloons," Eleazar's brows were lifted with alarm.

Carlisle could not stop himself from chuckling. "I find that resistance is often counterproductive, gentlemen."

Jasper frowned. "We can't go on a hunt, we went yesterday."

Emmett grinned. "No, no, that's perfect!" He reached over and picked up Carlisle by the arm. "Rosie!"

Eleazar shot Carlisle a questioning glance, and all Carlisle could do was shrug with confusion. He looked over at Edward and saw that he was struggling to keep from laughing.

"Rosalie! We're taking the old man out!" Emmett said loudly.

Rosalie was instantly standing in Emmett's path and tapping her foot. "Oh, _really_?"

Emmett stopped short but did not stop grinning. "We are starting a new tradition. Every year we're going to challenge the old man to some hunting games."

Bella appeared next to Rosalie with her arms crossed in the same way as her sister. "You went hunting yesterday."

"_Games_," Emmett repeated with flare. "This is hunting _games_! And if I'm lucky you may be looking at the new Cullen champion of the one thousand yard dash," he kissed Rosalie on the forehead and then walked past her with a grin.

Edward snorted at the thought, and then took Carlisle's other arm, and also slinked around the girls. "We'll be back later ladies!"

Suddenly, Garrett and Zivon ran into the room and were the first out the back door onto the porch. "We're going with you!" They heard the conversation from the kitchen and took their chance for escape.

As soon as they were outside, the rest of the men zipped out behind them. Bella and Rosalie shook their heads, and all of the girls could hear the faint echoing laughter of all of the men out in the woods behind the house.

They raced through the woods, leaping over fallen trees, flying across small ponds without disturbing the water, pushing faster and faster. Carlisle was enjoying the chase and the wind through his hair, and he was elated that he was actually staying within the top five of the group.

Suddenly, Edward, who was naturally in the lead, stopped on a dime and turned his head: his nostrils flared and he looked at Timir.

"Can you smell it?" his eyes were wild with excitement.

Timir took a long deep breath, and then he smiled at his teacher. "Large felines?"

Edward turned to Carlisle. "Mountain lions."

Emmett let out a howl and then they were off in the direction of the scent Edward had picked up. They started their usual game of who can gorge the fastest, feeding on several species. Carlisle ran with Zivon and Timir.

"I had never thought of feeding with others, or making a _game_ of it," Timir said with admiration. Feeding on humans often became solitary and sometimes shameful as well as traumatic for vampires. It was an entirely new experience for many of them to see a group having fun.

Carlisle nodded but Zivon understood, being the newest member of the Cullen family.

"They are a bit boisterous, but you can easily see the family bonds," he laughed as Jasper shoved Eleazar after he stole a kill from Jasper's grasp.

Timir nodded. "Yes, I can almost _feel_ it from them, all of them," he turned to look at Carlisle.

Eleazar was far more proficient than Edward remembered and Emmett was racing to keep ahead. They had moved on to a herd of deer, but after Edward put down his eighth kill, he realized that Carlisle had only taken four.

Carlisle regretted pushing himself as hard as he had in the chase, because now he was struggling against his limbs. They simply refused to move as quickly as he wanted them to, and then they started to tingle slightly. He was now following along behind the group, doing his best to keep up, but then Carlisle watched in horror as his vision began to darken, and then the warmth in his chest suddenly faded, almost to nothing.

_No…_

At that moment, Eleazar turned toward him. "Carlisle, what is happening? Your power feels like it's… Carlisle?"

All of the boys turned and saw that Carlisle had stopped walking and he was looking away from them.

"Carlisle?" Edward could hear the distress in his father's mind and started to walk toward him. Then he realized Carlisle was leaning against a tree… as if he were _fatigued_.

Carlisle gripped the tree and turned back to his family, his eyes full of pain. He had seen patients take a sudden turn for the worse over and over in his career, but like many of his patients, he never imagined that he could be caught away from the house, and with no way to quickly explain to the others what would be unimaginable to them. They were all looking back at him with confusion. Then he turned to his first son.

_Edward –_

Carlisle's last conscious thought was cut short as his head spun, his legs went numb, he sagged against the tree and then he fell.

He saw all of his boys and his best friend running toward him in a blur as he was falling but Edward was the fastest. He was there in an instant and caught his father before he hit the ground.

Edward screamed his name but it was a distant, fading sound to Carlisle as the world went black.

Carlisle's eyes opened and he found Esme curled up beside him. A quick glance around told him that he was back at the house, in the hospital bed in his upstairs office. He blinked, and realized that he had been unconscious. In that surreal moment, he wondered if he had actually been dreaming for the first time in almost five hundred years, yet he could not recall anything… but darkness.

He immediately did a check of his condition, and it was disheartening. He could no longer move his legs. His vision was definitely failing, he could only hear muffled bits of the conversations downstairs, and when he tried to take a breath, he could barely reach half his lung capacity.

As soon as his chest rose and fell Esme sat up and gasped when she saw Carlisle's eyes were open, then she grasped his collar in her hands.

"Carlisle! I was so desperate to have one more chance to tell you I love you!" she whispered, and kissed him on the lips. Her brow was creased with pain as she pulled back and looked into his eyes.

"Carlisle, can you speak, or do you want me to talk to them?"

Alice burst into the room and Edward and Bella were right behind her. Carlisle caressed Esme's face, then turned toward his children.

"Would everyone, please, join us?" Carlisle called, and it was obvious to everyone that his voice was weaker. His decreased lung capacity was going to make speaking increasingly difficult.

A moment later they were all gathered. Timir stood in the hall just outside the door feeling like an intruder. Eleazar's sculpted brows were drawn together, Carmen stood just in front of him, and his hands were on her shoulders. Zivon and Tanya held hands behind Eleazar, while Garrett appeared to be physically supporting Kate who could not even look at Carlisle. Emmett and Rosalie stood side by side, Alice and Jasper were near the wall, and Bella and Edward remained right next to the bed. Renesmee was near the door but she was wringing her hands anxiously, so Carlisle beckoned her to come closer. She sat on the edge of the bed and laid her head against his chest as his arm encircled her.

_Are they ready for this?_ Carlisle sighed.

"What do you mean?" Edward said, with a slight edge to his voice. "What are you keeping from us?"

Carlisle bowed his head slightly. "About a century ago, I noticed very subtle changes. My vision was not as acute. My hearing was slightly less sensitive. And I started having dizzy spells. Then about forty years ago, my energy dropped suddenly, and I stumbled."

Edward suddenly turned to Esme, he had just read her thoughts.

"You _knew_? He told you that day?" he said with incredulity. All eyes jumped to Esme.

Esme sighed and looked back into Edward's eyes. "I knew something was wrong long before he told me."

Carlisle squeezed her hand gently. "I didn't realize how much I was being affected, it was so subtle at first. And then I was researching for answers before I spoke to everyone. But I'd never seen what I am experiencing."

"So you've found nothing to explain it?" Bella's eyes were narrowed with suspicion. Carlisle looked into Bella's eyes and then dropped his gaze again, hesitating.

"Carlisle, tell me…" Edward's frustration was mounting and he gritted his teeth.

"I think I'm dying," Carlisle said quickly. "I… I'm dying," he whispered as he repeated himself, as if softer words would have less impact.

All of the vampires in the room were frozen like statues. Renesmee pressed her face into Carlisle's soft stony chest, and her tears began to soak into his shirt. Carlisle looked to Esme, and then released his hold on her hands so he could wrap both arms around his granddaughter.

"Carlisle, that's… not possible!" Rosalie gasped shaking her golden ringlets.

"Rose, I'm not saying that my logic is infallible, but I've excluded many, many other possibilities."

"But Aro is older, still strong and…" Bella whispered.

"No, he isn't," Edward said with a hollow voice. "They have all become more fragile over time. That's part of the reason why they increased the Guard over time, and Aro's shield is not just for keeping assassins at bay."

"But you don't look all thin like they do!" Emmett said angrily.

Carlisle looked back at Emmett. "What is the main difference between Aro, Stephan, and myself?"

"You feed only on animals," Jasper murmured and wiped his brow.

"I believe I have been experiencing a slow decline in function, due to my diet," Carlisle looked over at Eleazar and his friend looked back at him with a furrowed brow.

"What evidence have you collected?" Eleazar whispered harshly.

"We obtained a dismembered vampire leg from our colleagues in Egypt thirty years ago and for the first time we excised and tested the vampire nervous system. We knew that my empirical data on my own function, which I had gathered for almost twenty years at that point, showed that my nerves were not conducting as quickly as the nerves of vampires older than me who feed on humans. But, I decided that was not enough information, and I had Esme and Renesmee assist me in excising my lateral cutaneous nerve."

Renesmee wiped her eyes and sat up. She looked over at her parents who were staring at her incredulously. "I saw Grandpa stumble when I was a child and I figured out that there was something wrong by the time I was grown up. It's why I chose biology for my degree and later specialized in neurobiology once we decided that was his problem."

Carlisle looked from Renesmee to Bella and continued. "We compared the composition and function of the my nerves to the dismembered leg and we found that the venom conducting the nerve transmissions in my nerves did not conduct as quickly. We attempted to boost the conductivity by injecting venom from other family members; we tried venom samples from the genetic experiments in Egypt and Brazil, but the nerves would not accept a venom donation. Then I tried all forms of nutrition and energy transmission to boost my own venom production, but all were rejected except blood nutrition, as I have found before."

"And what about _human_ blood, Carlisle?" Jasper pressed with desperate intensity.

"We tried," Esme said quietly. "He did not want to do it, but I forced the issue. I knew that none of us would be happy unless we explored every possibility." Esme looked down sadly. "It was the _final_ option, and it failed."

Renesmee frowned as she looked at her father's pained expression. "We tried donated human blood and found that while there was a mild measureable improvement in his nerve function, it was not significant, and there was no regeneration."

"I am certain," Carlisle said weakly, "that while human blood may postpone the inevitable, the damage has been done. Any extension of my life at this point would be at a lower quality, and would not stop the process. And I am unwilling to explore how much donated blood I would have to procure to extend such an existence. And it is unethical to take life saving reserves from humans when this appears to be a natural process. There is no cause to use emergent measures to save me, no matter how much more good I could do."

Each considered the implications of this news in their own thoughts. Then Edward realized that Alice was pressed against the wall and in her mind she was racing through dozens of paths every second, searching and searching. She was starting to go mad.

"ALICE! STOP! ALICE!" Edward knelt in front of her and pulled her hands from her face and put her grieved face between his two hands. "STOP!"

"I…can't…I can't see! Anything! ANYTHING!" She sobbed. They all knew what that meant. Edward pulled her into his arms.

"Alice, we don't have to know," Carlisle whispered.

Edward held Alice closer. He, like Alice, was not quite ready to accept what Carlisle was saying. Carlisle recognized the defiance in Edward's face.

"There must be someone we can call, someone who knows about this kind of thing…"

"There is only one person you need to call now." Carlisle said quietly.

"Aro," Edward whispered as he read the thought in his father's mind.

Carlisle nodded. "Alistair has confirmed that I am dying, but I believe Aro has seen this before, in other animal-feeders. I need to know what he has seen and combine it with my theories. He may know more about what I believe is happening, and tell us… how much time I have."

"Well, I don't trust him enough to let him anywhere near you!" Rosalie said, angrily. Emmett put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Rose, please trust me." Carlisle's eyes pleaded with her. He turned toward Edward, who was still not looking at him.

_Please son, I need to speak to him. We have unfinished business with him that has been left undone too long._

Edward released his hold on Alice and stood up. "I'll call him," he spoke with authority.

"Thank you, Edward," Esme said quietly, her pain unmistakable.

_Thank you, son,_ Carlisle repeated, and noted sadly that Edward would not look at him.

Instead, Edward turned to Timir who was standing still as a statue at the door.

"How is this _comforting_ to you?" Edward whispered in a voice so full of agony that Carlisle's brow creased.

Timir blinked. "Mr. Edward, do you have any idea how many vampires would give _anything_ to know that there is a peaceful end to their existence?" He turned to Carlisle. "I wish all the best to you and your family. I will tell everyone I meet. You have changed me, for as long as I live."

Timir nodded to each family member and left. The gravity of his words impacted them all. Timir found hope where they were despairing.

Edward bowed his head slightly, and Carlisle could see just a hint of shame in his face, but then he walked out the door without looking back at his father.

Bella watched him leave and turned to Carlisle and put a hand on his shoulder. "He will come around."

Carlisle sighed. "He has every right to be angry."

Bella caressed her daughter's hair and looked up at Esme. "None of you owe us any kind of explanation. But, maybe we could have helped you!"

Bella was still in genetics, and she had been working with Carlisle and Renesmee to compile as much vampire physiology information as they could from his old notes and from new research over the last ten years. She now realized how much they had been holding back.

Esme reached over and put a hand on Bella. "It was far more important for us to keep the family focused on the future, Bella. Nothing was going to stop this from happening."

Bella frowned at Esme and laid a hand on top of hers. "You did not have to suffer this alone."

Esme looked down and nodded. "You are right, and I will need you. All of you."

Alice finally stood up again and walked over to the side of the bed where Esme was sitting and put her arms around her mother, Rosalie joined in, and Bella embraced them all.

The human valet in Volterra seemed taken aback that anyone would ask to speak to Aro directly, but when Edward gave his last name he fell silent.

"Just one moment, please, Mr. Cullen," he said quickly. Two minutes later, he returned, and instead of connecting him directly to Aro, he was giving Edward the flight time of the private jet. Aro was to arrive in Seattle the evening of the following day.

Eleazar and the rest of the Denali coven sat with Carlisle and Esme that afternoon. Carlisle spoke with them all in muted tones. He was losing control of his diaphragm and it was getting harder to take in enough air so he could keep talking. Tanya and Zivon were quiet most of the time, and Kate sat in the corner of the room in Garrett's arms. The loss of Irina was still so fresh that losing Carlisle too was nearly too much for her to bear.

Eleazar was visibly agitated at the thought of Aro in the house. "Do you really need to see him?"

Carlisle nodded and spoke in bursts, taking short gasping breaths in between. "There is more at stake here… than my health, old friend."

Eleazar shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"We did not part well a century ago… Since then Aro has sat… in his cold citadel replaying the… confrontation over and over… in his mind… He will not leave my family… in peace when I am gone… unless he has assurances that… we have no new designs… on Volterra." Carlisle looked over at Esme. "And he also needs to hear directly from me… that I forgive him."

Eleazar nodded, and laid a hand on Carlisle's arm. "If that bastard so much as _looks_ at you the wrong way –"

"NO," Carlisle gripped Eleazar's hand. "This ends… in peace, Eleazar… It must end… with _all of us_ at peace."

Eleazar nodded, and put his other hand on Carlisle's arm in acknowledgement.

Later that night Jacob arrived expecting a party and called out to the family.

"Helloooo! This place is quiet as a t—"

Edward was upstairs standing by the bed with a comforting hand on Esme who still had not moved. He shook his head and turned to Carlisle.

"Renesmee has just shown him what happened. She and Bella are bringing him up."

Jacob followed Bella into the room with an arm around Renesmee but when he saw Carlisle supine on the bed he stopped short and looked away. Then he saw Edward's eyes, and the scene so clearly reminded him of his own father's death that he nearly lost control of his calm façade. Finally, he walked forward and took a deep breath before he looked up again at Carlisle's half closed eyes. Carlisle smiled at him.

"Dr. Cullen, without you, there never would have been any chance for peace," Jacob said earnestly.

When Carlisle took his first gasping breath to speak Jacob's frown deepened and he had to blink away tears.

"Jacob, peace takes agreement… and action… on both sides… You are the future… of our alliance." Carlisle nodded to both Jacob and Edward, and then to Bella and Renesmee.

Edward bowed his head slightly. Jacob also felt the weight of such a responsibility on his shoulders. Then he looked at the others around him, and he knew that Carlisle's confidence in them was not misplaced. Jacob pulled Renesmee closer, and laid his other long arm across Bella's shoulders, resting his hand on Edward. The treaty had become a partnership, and now it was a family bond.

Early the next morning, Alice's vision changed: Marcus and Caius were coming too. Eleazar began pacing at an unnatural speed in the downstairs hallway. Edward was also not at all pleased. Bella went with him to bring the news to Esme and Carlisle.

Edward paced next to Carlisle's bed, and wrung his hands. "Carlisle, if you die, they may try again to take us with them."

"Edward, they cannot… Our family is too strong… for them to overpower,"Carlisle said confidently.

Edward shook his head, "I don't trust them. Why would they come here without hidden protectors?"

"Alice says… they are alone." Carlisle still did not waver.

"They know how to fool her," Bella said shaking her head.

Carlisle did not respond.

Esme sat up. "Carlisle?" No response, Carlisle's eyes were blank and half open.

Edward leaned over his father and grasped him by the shoulders, shaking him, "CARLISLE!"

"I'm here, Edward… My vision has suddenly clouded… I can't see you clearly…" Carlisle's voice faded.

Edward's forehead creased as his brows came together. "Father, I – cannot do this without you." Edward's voice cracked slightly.

Carlisle moved his head slightly and his pupils shifted from side to side, searching for Edward's pale face in the blur before his eyes.

"Edward, you have known… for a long time that you were… to lead this family if anything… happened to me… Together with Bella… you have the strength."

Edward nodded, and he finally allowed himself one long-denied tearless sob.

Carlisle put a hand on one of Edward's arms. "And son… your family will be at your side."

Edward released his hold on Carlisle's shoulders, and took both of Carlisle's hands in his.

"I will take care of them. I will defend our family, as you would have," Edward said with resignation.

"Thank you, son… but I never doubted… that you would," Carlisle whispered, and then he smiled. Carlisle turned his head toward the place where he had last seen his newest daughter.

"Bella," she moved closer and laid a hand on his arm so he would know she was there. "You are probably only… just realizing how important… you are to our family."

Bella's brows knit and she shook her head, "Carlisle, I'm not…"

Carlisle smiled again. "You carry the most… of my power… of anyone in the family… You and Edward… will be the leaders of a movement… that will continue to change vampire society… forever."

Edward looked intently at his father because he could see an internal serenity growing in Carlisle's mind. The tranquility washed over Edward, and for a moment he could not help but be comforted and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. He was very grateful that Carlisle had had the chance to say the things he needed to say.

But then, Edward realized that as the peacefulness grew, he could feel Carlisle slightly relax his desperate grip on life. Edward tensed and then he unconsciously tightened his hold on Carlisle's hands and gritted his teeth.

"Not yet," Edward whispered.

The next evening Emmett opened the front door and Jasper stood next to him with an expression so calm even Aro could see the danger behind his eyes. Emmett growled low in his throat, until Jasper put a hand on his shoulder.

"Caius, your weapon," Jasper said bluntly, holding out his hand.

Aro did not even look back at Caius to reassure him, and after several seconds Caius complied when he realized that Aro was not going to intercede. With that Jasper moved Emmett aside and allowed the Volturi to enter the house.

Aro, Marcus, and Caius drifted inside and immediately up the stairs. Edward stopped them at the top landing. Aro bowed low, and Caius and Marcus followed suit.

Edward seemed satisfied, and he led them straight to Carlisle.

"He cannot see or speak. He wants you to approach, Aro."

Aro was unusually subdued as he drifted toward the bed. Marcus and Caius stayed respectfully silent near the door, though Caius did not miss the opportunity to shoot a livid glance at Zivon. Eleazar and Edward both turned and stared Caius down. Eleazar had no fear of walking into Volterra and escorting any vampire out who desired to leave. And Caius knew that he could not stop him.

"I don't want _anyone_ to touch my father," Emmett growled again. Rosalie put an arm around him.

Aro turned back and addressed the room, "I swear to you, no harm will come to Carlisle."

Eleazar stood stiffly at the foot of the bed and watched Aro's every move. Edward's eyes narrowed and he listened to every Volturi thought.

Carlisle was laid against a stack of pillows so that he was nearly sitting up, but his head was tipped slightly back because he could not hold it up. Esme was sitting on the bed, her head lay on Carlisle's right shoulder, and she held his right hand. Aro nodded to Esme who merely looked sadly back at him as she blinked away nonexistent tears.

Aro moved to Carlisle's left and stood next to the bed. He leaned forward slightly. "Hello, my dear friend. I am utterly grieved to see you this way." Then he lifted his right hand and placed it on Carlisle's cold cheek.

Aro's eyes trained on Carlisle and he remained motionless longer than Edward had ever seen him communicate with anyone. The two unmoving figures locked in that moment resembled a frozen Michelangelo sculpture.

At first Aro was watching every experience, every thought that had passed in Carlisle's mind from the beginning, and then Carlisle watched as Aro focused in on one particular memory of one of their first conversations soon after Carlisle arrived in Volterra.

_Aro walked out into the garden in full sunlight. The ancient looked almost god-like as his withering skin shimmered and glowed. Carlisle recoiled until he saw Aro turn and smile at his friend cowering in the darkness. Carlisle took a few brave steps forward and was suddenly bathed in a new reality as the sun's rays warmed his hands and face. Fire could burn and heal vampires, but nothing else in the world but the heat of blood and the sun could warm a vampire. He remembered how the general cloudiness of Aro's eyes seemed to clear up as he smiled at Carlisle's wonder of the new world around him. And Carlisle recalled what it was like experiencing the full intensity of the colors of all of the flowers in Aro's garden for the first time._

"_It almost makes me think that vampires should be creatures of the day instead of the night," Carlisle said as he looked at how the sunlight shone through a translucent green leaf on Aro's father's tree._

"_Where does this hatred of your own kind come from, Carlisle?" Aro's soft musical voice floated on the breeze but his eyes searched Carlisle's face._

_Carlisle looked back at Aro and frowned. "I don't consider vampires 'my kind.' I have never wanted to claim that identity."_

_Aro nodded, as if he understood. "And is that why you tried so hard to kill yourself in the beginning?"_

_Carlisle folded his hands behind his back and walked a stone bench, turning back to Aro as he sat down._

"_I tried to kill myself because I could not bear the thought of killing a human."_

_Again Aro nodded with empathy. "When I first met you in Rome you said to me, 'What other purpose could God have for an eternal life but to help people?' How could killing yourself, especially one as extraordinary as you, have been the right thing to do? Think of all the things you have done so far, how can that existence be wrong?"_

_The corner of Carlisle's mouth turned up and he shook his head, "It might have been at the cost of my relationship with God. I would rather be damned by God for killing myself, rather than be damned for ending another life."_

Aro's voice now filled Carlisle's head as their telepathic communication bound them in an unyielding grip. The entire family still watched them closely, and Edward listened to their conversation with fascination.

_Carlisle, my dear one, do you still feel the same way? Even now, that you have found an identity, somewhere between being what you were as a human, and the vampire that you are now, do you still believe that you should have killed yourself? Do you truly think that you should die today?_

Carlisle was holding Aro with all of the power he could muster trying desperately to make sure his final message got through.

_I do not fear becoming a monster as I did when I was newborn. I do believe that I have served my God's compassionate love to the best of my ability, and that my existence has not been worthless. However, the way I chose to live my life is exactly why it is time for me to die._

Carlisle held Aro's mind even tighter. _Aro, if I can do this, if I can overcome my paralyzing fear of what awaits me in death, and if I can actually die, as clearly my body is ready to, then I can show the world of vampires that we ARE still on some level – HUMAN. Birth, procreation, dreams for the future and natural mortality are the major ways that all humanity is connected. We have the first three, and I WANT that final piece back. I want them to see that we can have our humanity back in its entirety, we can die in peace, and I want my life to stand for that._

_You once said to me that 'the things that endure have no meaning, they simply exist.' I would rather die now and have a life of meaning rather than just survive and stand for nothing._

Aro's face suddenly grimaced with emotion. The entire family saw it.

_I wish you had stayed with me in Volterra._

Carlisle smiled. _You knew I would never stay._

Aro frowned. _I know, Alistair is rarely wrong. He foretold your arrival, departure, and he foretold your death._

Carlisle's brow creased. _When did he foretell my death?_

_He came to see me just before we confronted your family._

Carlisle realized that Alistair was not pulled away just to meet Arthur; he was pulled to intervene with the Volturi themselves.

Aro saw Carlisle's understanding. _He leapt from the shadows of the private hanger at the Seattle airport just after we landed. He tore off Demitri's arm and knocked Renata across the hanger before he grabbed me from behind. He had me on my knees with the crushing weight of the endless years of existence inside his mind. I cried out from the pain even though I had already seen it once before._

_Then, he whispered in my mind these words: 'I have no fear of my own destruction…He will outlast us… Do not destroy what you have loved the most… You must ask him for forgiveness.'_

_Then he let me go, and he ran off and melted back into the shadows. I still held on to my centuries of bitterness toward you for leaving me behind, so I dismissed his message and proceeded to the encounter._

_I was impressed by how far you were pushing your power, and I could feel you trying to influence me again. I could almost hear what you were thinking through your power. But then, I realized I could see it in your face: you were weaker. I thought this was my perfect opportunity, I could feel you within my grasp, but Bella's shield denied me and then Alice destroyed my veil of legitimacy. As I resolved that due to your talented children we could not fight and win, I realized I had heard Alistair's words before._

_You said to me, 'I have no fear of my own destruction.'_

_Marcus said to me, 'He will outlast us."_

_My sister's last words to me before I killed her were, 'Do not destroy what you have loved the most.'_

_I understood what Alistair was telling me, and the last phrase was his advice, 'You must ask him for forgiveness.'_

_So I did, not even knowing what I was asking forgiveness for. But now I do._

Aro put his other hand on Carlisle's arm gently. _Please, forgive me for Raisa, and for hating your family who loves you._

Carlisle smiled. _I forgave you for Raisa, long ago, and if you promise to work with my family and never threaten them again I will forgive the second offense. And I think you may be wrong, that final message from Alistair was also for me. Can you forgive me for dismissing your friendship?_

Aro grimaced again. _You never cared about me; you only desired my knowledge and the history we had recorded._

Carlisle frowned. _You never cared about me; you only feared me because of what Alistair foretold._

Aro's voice in Carlisle's mind was pained. _You speak the truth, but I knew from the first day that you were changing me, and while Caius resisted, as he still does, I did not. And now, all I will have left of you is how you have made me more dissatisfied with living._

_NO – you will find your own meaning, purpose, satisfaction. Work with them. _

_You realize that Bella is going to live longer than you did…_

_I am counting on it…_

_I never thought the brightness of your inner power would ever be spent…_

_I lasted longer than even Marcus predicted…_

_Because there will never be another like you…_

When Aro finally lowered his hand, he bowed his head slightly. Edward could hear his sadness that echoed with ancient desolation and regret, which Edward could not have put into words if he tried.

_I'm fine Edward. It was a very enlightening conversation,_ Carlisle thought faintly.

Aro did not look at Edward but lifted his eyes back to Carlisle's serene face. "He is declining quickly," Aro said quietly and turned toward everyone present.

"I consume blood that has fed my body better and more efficiently than animal blood is feeding yours. I am a product of uncounted millennia of evolution. But even I am _NOT_ immortal. And our beloved Carlisle believes that there is hope for animal-feeders." Aro smiled slightly at the entire family. "Carlisle is the strongest animal-feeder I believe has ever existed, and I believe his hope for all is justified. As you who were transformed by him carry on _his_ line, your future progeny will grow stronger." Aro looked directly at Bella and she met his gaze. "Your descendents' taste for human blood will decline, and perhaps one day you will live as long as we who drink human blood have grown to live." Aro ended hopefully.

"And what do you know of the fate of the rest of us?" Eleazar said austerely.

Aro looked back at Eleazar and spoke to him for the first time since Eleazar left Volterra.

"I have watched others before him fade in just over a hundred years after they stop feeding on humans entirely. However, I know some have lasted longer depending on how long they fed on humans before. In the end, your fate is your choice."

"Aro, can't you stop him?" Emmett said desperately.

Aro turned a knowing face to Emmett. "Your father, and the Carlisle I know would cease to exist if I fed him human blood, Emmett. He expects that you will treat each other with that same respect."

Aro's deep red eyes held just a slight edge of danger, and Emmett's shoulders slumped as Rosalie hugged him.

Aro looked at each of them. "These are the alternatives before each of you: to reclaim your humanity, and meet your fate as it comes, because your experiences have all been different, or to find your way as a vampire. Your father's legacy is that he has shown you all that you have that choice."

Edward looked over at Carlisle, who gazed in his direction reassuringly with unseeing eyes.

"He wants to talk to all of the Volturi."

Marcus and Caius were already floating toward the bed, and Aro had lifted up Carlisle's left hand in his. Marcus and Caius each laid their right hands on top of Carlisle's, their fingers intertwining with Aro's as he served as the conduit between the minds of all four vampires. Edward watched with fascination at the re-enactment of a ritual that the four had performed only once before in their last meeting of the minds in Volterra two centuries ago.

_It is time…_

_We will never be defeated…_

_The world has changed…_

_There is no defeat in living peacefully together…_

_Our time has passed…_

_It passed into an age of peace…_

Carlisle smiled; Alistair's mission had been achieved.

Aro turned and raised a hand to the family. "Edward, Bella, your father has named you both as head of your family. The Volturi will honor how you govern yourselves among the humans as along as it does not conflict with our own safety."

The family all exchanged glances. Edward and Bella's position as head of the family was not a surprise, but Aro's graciousness was. Caius seemed quite displeased, but resigned. A diminutive smile passed over Marcus's face. Their ancient fight for domination was over.

Aro continued, "We no longer claim jurisdiction among your kind. We will maintain order over the vampires who feed on humans, and you will lead the rest. We will contact you for counsel as needed, and expect you to do the same."

Edward put out his hand. "Aro." The Volturi lowered his raised hand and touched the center of Edward's palm.

Aro nodded. "Thank you, Edward. I hope the Cullen Family will accept the Volturi's deepest sympathies." Aro turned toward Bella and bowed. "I look forward to our next meeting." Bella nodded graciously.

Aro glanced back toward Carlisle one last time and he frowned sadly. Then he, Marcus, and Caius all floated down the stairs and disappeared into the limousine and out into the dark night.

The family all took up positions on and around the bed, each one laying a hand on Carlisle. Edward continued to speak aloud from Carlisle's stream of consciousness.

Carlisle spoke of his origins, of his transformation, of learning his new way of life, of finding each of the members of his family, of finally finding happiness, of his joy at seeing every one of them happy and fulfilled, and of his love for his only grandchild.

He spoke of their alliances and friends, and about his beliefs about the future of their coven, and about his wish that each of them would extend their families. They all felt the hope, the love, and the peace in Carlisle's thoughts. His final thoughts were for Esme.

"He says, _Thank you, my love, my love… forever…_" and then Edward abruptly stopped speaking for the first time in over thirteen hours.

Edward tightened his grip slightly on Carlisle's leg, and found that his father's once soft stony flesh was now rock solid under his fingers. Edward's face twisted with grief, and his cry of agony echoed in the house, then faded to silent sobs. The others were so shocked by his open mourning that they kept their grief more private. Bella threw her arms around Edward's shaking shoulders.


	28. Epilogue

~~ EPILOGUE ~~

"Dr. Cullen? Dr. Cullen?"

The mildly impatient female voice was distant at first and then became clearer as I shook myself out of my thick haze of memories and looked up.

"Yes, Dr. May?"

"Your sister is on line two." She smiled at my temporary loss of composure and winked at me.

I was midway through my shift at the hospital and had merely gotten lost in my mind as I stared at all of the patient monitors on the large touch-screen wall behind the nurse's station which served as a partition between the desk and the dictation cubicles. The wall had shifting windows of information that changed every second, informing the staff of the progress of the patients in the ICU.

"Thanks, Patricia." I smiled back, and then slid my chair over to the dictation area and tapped the nearest private communication monitor. "Hi, Alice."

Alice's pixie face grinned at me from the monitor, but her bubbly voice echoed only in my earpiece.

"Bella, another visitor will be arriving tonight from Volterra on the intercontinental jet."

My eyes narrowed slightly. "Does Aro know?"

Alice nodded. "Yes. Apparently he was also a messenger for the Volturi and simply decided not to return from his last assignment. Eleazar knows him and he and Carmen both vouched for him. Apparently, Esme knows him too."

"Is she going to be there when he arrives?" I asked.

"Yes, she is here now."

I glanced at the clock in the corner of the monitor. Fortunately, Edward's last solo practice session for the Saturday performance coincided with my rounds.

"We'll be home in two hours," I said.

"I know." Alice laughed and the monitor switched off.

Another visitor. This was the fourth from Volterra. The shift in the balance of power had begun. Zivon had implied that there would be an exodus but none of us really expected it to happen. Aro, however, was not hurting for recruits. He was actually adding to his numbers each year.

Volterra was bustling, but Eleazar and Carmen were even busier. Kate and Garrett were being run off their feet, Tanya and Zivon were planning to build a guesthouse like ours, and Esme was continent hopping to keep up with everything that was happening. She split her time between Spain and North America mostly. Edward and I held down the fort in Forks.

We had to remind Emmett occasionally that this was not a competition and our contact with Volterra was relatively open even if it was infrequent. We had only had one contact from Aro personally since Carlisle's death: an extravagant funeral wreath to be floated in the river behind our house where Edward scattered half of his remains.

We had a public funeral at the house. Carlisle's death shook the human, werewolf, and vampire world. Guests included his most recent medical school classmates and colleagues, vampires from around the world, all of the Quileute tribe elders and the werewolves, and a significant portion of the Forks community. The entire backyard of the house was filled and it was standing room only all the way down to the river.

Then the entire immediate family made their way to Denali and we had a private funeral. Esme scattered the other half of Carlisle's remains in Mirror Lake where they were married. We all stayed with Tanya and Zivon for several weeks after that and leaned on each other for support.

Carlisle's last will and testament included a large donation to refurbish the Forks Hospital, which had needed some renovations due to advances in the latter half of the 21st century. The new wing, which included an expanded ICU and an updated Emergency Department, opened just before what would have been Carlisle's 472nd birthday. I walked through the halls of Cullen Memorial Hospital to my last rounds before my shift ended.

When I entered the next patient's room I had to glance twice at the name. It was a young girl named Angela Johnson. I looked down at her and she had the same slim build and long dark hair as my old friend from high school.

"Miss Johnson? Where are your parents?" I said with concern looking down at the small, fifteen year-old.

She stared at me for a moment as she took in my magnetic vampire appearance, and then shrugged weakly.

"We just moved back here and dad had to go open the house for the moving van, and mom is in the cafeteria."

I nodded and looked at her chart. "Well, I think you're recovering from the appendectomy very well, so we'll move you out of the ICU today, and hopefully get you home soon. I bet you're sick of this place anyway, huh?"

She continued to look at me with awe, but then gave me a tiny smile and I smiled back at her.

"Can you tell your mother to call me if she has any questions?"

She nodded. I put a hand gently on her shoulder and she flinched.

"Wow, your hands are cold! I can feel it through my gown!"

I smiled knowingly. "Hospitals are always cold." I winked at her and she laughed uncertainly, and then I left.

I continued reporting and giving orders at each bedside without needing much forethought. The team following me took many notes. _If only vampire medicine were so comfortably routine_, I mused.

Renesmee and I were the only two who had pursued medicine, and we continued our work on expanding Carlisle's book of knowledge on vampire physiology. With our growing network of friends around the world we gathered everything from folk healing from the nomads to controlled scientific data from others working at the research centers in Egypt and Brazil.

Renesmee broadened her interests as she spent more time with the pack. She took a break from neurobiology and was currently working as a large-animal veterinarian. Renesmee and Jacob also maintained the treaty with the werewolf pack and were present on every conference call between our friends and representatives around the world. Jacob had started a search for other shape-shifters, and was trying to find any surviving Children of the Moon.

After I finished my rounds I changed and walked out to the parking garage as I checked my messages. I looked up to see my husband slyly leaning against the car watching me walk toward him. Edward had even more practice in medicine than I did from his education before I was born, but Esme encouraged him to continue to pursue his passion for music until he was healed from Carlisle's death.

I smiled when his lips turned up into a half grin and I slid the thin touchpad that was full of test results into my white coat. He leaned down for a tender kiss and then rested his forehead against mine and smiled.

I opened my mind to him. _You feel calm today. It must have been a good final rehearsal._

Edward chuckled. "_You_ are what calms me… and makes me _crazy_." He leaned in for another kiss and slid his hands down to the small of my back. I deepened the kiss, but then reluctantly pulled away.

"Let's continue this at home, shall we?" I lifted a brow and then kissed him lightly one more time.

Edward smirked again and then cleared his throat as he returned to business. He opened my door for me and I stepped into the car as he started relating random news.

"Emmett and Rosalie want me to help coach the disabled kid's league tomorrow, so I may not be able to pick you up."

I grinned. "Fine, then I get the Aston Martin."

Edward growled and slammed my door, then reappeared on the other side and slid into the driver's seat.

"Hmm, you are renegotiating. Fine, then I get Emmett on my team at our next vampire baseball game."

I gasped with shock. "But we are playing the Tokyo league in the next tournament! No way!"

Edward shrugged and tossed up his hands. "Then you get the other car, sorry." The "other" car was a brand new silver Volvo.

I stuck my tongue out at him. I was going to tell Emmett he was mine for the tournament anyway, so decided to let Edward think he'd won and I dropped the topic.

"Did Alice call you?"

Edward nodded and started the car. "I'm glad that our most recent guests left, I would like to have a chance to talk privately with our new visitor about what's happening inside Volterra right now. I really want to know what Caius is doing these days."

I frowned. "Eleazar has not been concerned about it, I don't think you should be, either."

Edward's brows came together. "I know, it's just, I was thinking about something Carlisle told me before he died about his last conversation with Alistair. He believed that if Didyme had succeeded in changing the Volturi before she was killed, that Caius would have eventually left because he would not change. And then Aro said in his thoughts that Caius had always resisted the effects of Carlisle's power, but Carlisle had no idea how successful Caius was at that resistance. So, I just want to hear from someone who has seen him recently, what is he up to right now?"

My frown deepened. I had always assumed that Aro would keep Caius in check. From the outside Volterra seemed as formidable as ever, but they had been relatively quiet, and they were gathering more vampires recently…

The phone rang in the speakers of the car and I tapped the view screen. Renesmee's chocolate eyes filled the monitor and I smiled.

"Auntie Alice wants you to know that she has already claimed Emmett for her team in the next tournament," Renesmee giggled.

Edward growled. "And she sent you as the messenger because she knew I would not be able to resist you!"

Emmett walked by behind Renesmee and leaned down to grin into the camera.

"Sorry guys, she's blackmailing me!" His booming laugh echoed in the room as he walked away.

"And Esme says that she will need you and Jasper to help with our new visitor," Renesmee said to Edward. Esme, Jasper and Alice had taken on the hard work of rehabilitating vampires who had been scarred emotionally by their centuries of torment.

Edward nodded. "Of course. See you soon honey, I want to hear about your new horse breeding project tonight after we meet the new visitor."

Renesmee smiled again, "Oh he's here! See you in a few minutes."

"Nessie, we need to talk about the new information we got from Egypt, too honey."

Renesmee's smile faded. "OK, mom. Bye."

Edward shifted slightly, and his smile was gone. He knew that only one kind of research was going on in Egypt: the project exploring the degenerative condition that killed Carlisle. It was one of the studies that Esme was funding personally. Edward was silent for the remainder of the drive.

We pulled into the lower level garage holding fourteen of the family vehicles. Edward turned off the car, looked upward toward the main level of the house and smiled.

"Jasper is 'welcoming' our guest."

Jasper was conscientious in his role in family security. Emmett and I were also on security detail as we were needed. My shield continued to grow in strength and it constantly surrounded those I loved.

I could see Edward struggling again with his grief, and I could see the weight of his responsibility on his shoulders as he stared straight ahead and made no move to leave the car. I reached for his hand.

"He would be proud of you," I said quietly.

Edward turned toward me and sighed. "I was angry for a long time. And then I was ashamed of my anger because in the end I was really still angry with God, not Carlisle."

Edward sighed and shook his head. I already knew most of what he was telling me, but he still needed to say it.

"I know why he didn't tell us until the end. And he was right, damn him, he always was right," Edward smiled, and a corner of my mouth turned upward.

"He already knew that I would have this problem with God, because he knew me too well. We'd had ongoing theological arguments over the centuries. Some of his last messages to me were to help me with my spiritual problems. His final reflections weren't for himself, they were all to help us." Edward's voice broke and he took a moment to compose himself, then he looked back into my eyes.

"He told me in his thoughts that he had come to believe this – telling vampires about how they can reclaim their humanity – was the reason he was changed. He found peace as a healer for humans, and his gift has changed the connection between humans and vampires forever; but he felt that _God's_ purpose for him was… to bring _hope_ to vampires." Edward's eyes were so liquid gold it was easy to imagine they were full of tears. "And I believe him."

I stared at my husband for a moment because his face was truly peaceful for the first time since Carlisle passed. Then I smiled at Edward as my throat closed up, and squeezed his hand. Long ago, when I was a teenager at Forks High School, I thought we'd all be together, forever. And Carlisle was still with us.

"Let's go meet our visitor." I said with a smile.

We got out of the car and Renesmee opened the door to the garage and ran down the steps into Edward's arms. He sighed and he hugged her a little longer than ususal.

She looked up at her father with a perplexed expression. "What's wrong, Dad?"

Edward shrugged and he smiled at her. "We were just… talking about Grandpa again."

She smiled sadly up at him and put her hand on his face. Edward closed his eyes as he watched the images she sent him. Then, he looked down at our daughter.

"Carlisle was right, Nessie. You do have my mother's face." He hugged her close again. "Thank you."

I walked over to them and kissed them both on the cheek. "Where is Jacob?"

Renesmee pointed up toward the main level. "Waiting to talk to our visitor. He wants to ask him about rumors of the Children of the Moon migrating to China."

Edward turned his mind back to the people up on the main level and his brow creased slightly. Without a word he headed up the stairs. I shrugged at Renesmee and we followed him.

When we arrived in the foyer we saw that the former member of the Guard had long blonde hair past his shoulders and chiseled features that made him appear to have been cut from limestone. He was holding Esme's tiny pale hand and was just lowering it from his lips where he had deposited a gentle kiss a moment before we arrived. Edward's shoulders were tense and he glared at Alice who was smiling smugly.

Esme took the vampire's hand and walked over to Edward.

"Edward, this is a good friend I met when I was visiting Carmen and Eleazar. Etienne, this is Carlisle's son."

I smiled to myself as Edward forced himself to relax, and he shook Etienne's hand.

Etienne smiled at all of us and spoke with a thick French accent.

"It is an honor to properly meet the Cullen family."


End file.
